&NDVARPS 

RING 

• 

ARTHUR. 
PETERSON / 


By  Arthur  Peterson 


Collected  Poems 
Andvari's  Ring 


AndvarFs    Ring 


By 

Arthur   Peterson 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 

Cbe  "Knickerbocker  press 

1916 


COPYRIGHT,  1916 

BY 
ARTHUR   PETERSON 


TEbe  fmicfeerbocher  press,  "flew  HJorft 


PS? 

p'; 
'f\  I 


NOTE 

THE  story  of  Andvari's  Ring,  of  Sigurd  and 
Gunter,  of  Brynhild  and  Gudrun,  has  always  had 
a  strong  hold  upon  the  human  heart.  Centuries 
ago  it  was  a  favourite  theme  of  the  old  Norse 
skalds  and  saga-men,  and  in  later  days  many  a 
poet,  dramatist,  and  musician  has  yielded  to  its 
fascination.  William  Morris  has  turned  it  into 
modern  English  verse,  and  Richard  Wagner 
has  woven  from  it  the  mightiest  of  his  music- 
dramas.  It  has  been  told  and  re-told  by  so 
many  people,  and  in  such  a  variety  of  ways, 
that  no  excuse  is  offered  by  the  writer  for  adding 
one  more  variation  to  the  collection.  In  the 
following  poem  the  hero  is  depicted  as  a  young 
Norse  rover,  a  wanderer  not  only  by  land  but  by 
sea,  this  latter  innovation  seeming  to  lend  itself 
quite  naturally  to  the  established  .legend.  The 
action  is  supposed  to  take  place  about  the 
middle  of  the  fifth  century,  that  eventful  period 
which  may  be  said  to  mark  the  end  of  the  an 
cient,  and  the  beginning  of  the  modern  world. 

This  ancient  story,  which  is  found  in  its  oldest 
known  form  in  the  Icelandic  Eddas,  (collections 


iv  Note 

of  prose  and  verse  in  the  Icelandic,  or  Old  Norse, 
language),  is  probably  based  partly  upon  nature- 
myths  common  to  the  whole  Aryan  Race,  and 
partly  upon  an  actual  historic  occurrence;  but 
when,  where,  or. by  whom  the  tale  was  first  put 
together  no  one  knows.  It  is  found  in  the 
literature  of  all  the  peoples  of  Northern  Europe ; 
and  it  was  an  especial  favourite  among  the 
Norse  races  who,  after  the  withdrawal  of  the 
Roman  garrisons,  settled  in  such  preponderating 
numbers  in  Britain.  It  is  natural,  therefore, 
that  it  should  be  popular  among  the  descendants 
of  those  races — the  English-speaking  peoples  of 
today. 

The  best  blood  of  Norway,  Sweden,  and  Den 
mark  (or  what  is  commonly  known  as  Scandina 
via)  seems  to  have  passed  over  into  the  British 
Isles  during  the  long  period  of  colonization  (about 
six  hundred  years)  between  the  fifth  and  the 
eleventh  centuries;  not  only  by  direct  migration 
and  settlement,  but  by  the  indirect  route  of 
Normandy;  for  William  the  Conqueror  and  his 
Normans,  though  they  had  French  names, 
were  probably  in  lineage  at  least  half  Norse. 
By  the  best  blood  I  mean  not  so  much  the  best- 
conducted  and  most  peaceable  persons,  as  the 
most  energetic,  aggressive,  daring  and  adventur 
ous.  And  there  is  little  doubt  that  it  is  to  the 
descendants  of  these  restless,  sea-faring  spirits 
that  Great  Britain  owes  her  centuries  of  mari- 


Note  v 

time~supremacy  and  over-sea  colonization.  The 
English  adventurers  of  the  sixteenth  and  eight 
eenth  centuries  were  but  repeating,  on  a  larger 
scale,  the  exploits  of  their  ancestors  of  a  thou 
sand  years  before;  and  the  long  line  of  ocean- 
heroes,  in  which  Drake  and  Nelson  are  perhaps 
the  most  conspicuous  figures,  had  its  beginning 
in  the  bold  Norse  rovers  who,  while  England  was 
yet  in  the  making,  sailed  forth  upon  "the  swan's 
road."  This  idea  is  touched  upon  in  the  chapter 
entitled  "Erda's  Prophecy." 

An  attempt  has  been  made  in  the  course  of 
the  narrative,  especially  in  the  chapter  entitled 
''Sigurd  and  Gudrun,"  and  in  "The  Song  of 
Olaf  the  Red,"  to  give  the  reader  some  idea  of 
the  beautiful  mythology  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Race.  Though  these  old  gods  and  goddesses, 
like  those  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  may  no 
longer  be  worshipped  as  divine  personages, 
yet  the  names  of  many  of  them  survive  and  are 
in  constant  use  in  the  English  language  of  to 
day,  the  original  meanings,  however,  being  often 
forgotten.  The  name  of  Easter,  the  goddess  of 
Spring,  of  Hel  or  Hela,  the  goddess  of  the  under 
world,  of  Tyr,  Odin,  Thor,  and  Freya,  after 
whom  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  and 
Friday  are  named,  the  first  and  second  days  of 
the  week  being  named  in  honour  of  the  Sun  and 
the  Moon,  are  a  few  of  the  many  examples  which 
might  be  quoted.  Though  dissimilar,  in  many 


vi  Note 

respects,  to  the  mythologies  of  the  Greeks  and 
the  Romans,  yet  in  many  other  respects  the 
Anglo-Saxon  mythology  bears  such  a  close  re 
semblance  to  them  that  one  cannot  help  think 
ing  they  originally  formed  one  system,  in  that 
earlier  time  when  the  various  branches  of  the 
Aryan  family  were  one  people,  dwelling  in  the 
highlands  of  Western  Asia. 

The  Burgundians,  with  whom  the  fortunes  of 
Sigurd  become  so  closely  connected,  and  among 
whom  he  finally  meets  his  death,  were  a  Teutonic 
people  whose  former  home  had  been  the  country 
between  the  Oder  and  the  Vistula.  They  mi 
grated  toward  the  west  and  south,  and  at  the 
time  of  our  story  were  settled  in  the  valley  of  the 
upper  Rhine,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Worms. 
The  Burgundians  afterward  passed  over  into 
Gaul,  and  the  territory  occupied  by  them  ulti 
mately  became  part  of  the  celebrated  Duchy 
of  Burgundy.  After  the  death  of  Sigurd  a  new 
character  appears  upon  the  scene,  the  celebrated 
Attila;  and  in  his  banquet  to  the  Burgundians 
and  the  execution  of  Hagen  we  can  discern 
the  outlines  of  a  far-off  historic  event. 

The  Latin  form  Scandia  has  been  used 
throughout  the  poem  in  preference  to  the  com 
moner  word  Scandinavia,  it  being  better  suited 
to  metrical  composition. 


CONTENTS 
BOOK  I 

SIGURD 

PAGE 

PRELUDE     .                  3 

I. — GUDRUN'S  DREAM    .....  4 

II. — THE  COMING  OF  SIGURD    ....  7 

III. — THE  BANQUET  (Including  Sigurd's  Narra 
tive)    .         .         .    '      .         .         .     ,    .  14 

IV. — THE  TOURNAMENT 67 

V. — SIGURD  AND  GUDRUN         ....  75 

VI. — IN  THE  ODENWALD 83 

VII.— THE  VALKYR 88 

VIII. — SIGURD  AND  GUNTER        ....  98 

IX. — YULE-TIDE  AT  THE  COURT  OF  KING  GUN 
TER    (Including    the    Song    of    Olaf    the 

Red) 102 

X. — IN  THE  GARDEN        .....  126 

XI. — GUNTER'S  SOLILOQUY        .         .         .         .  131 

XII. — HAGEN  AND  GISELHER      .         .         .         .133 

XIII.— HAGEN'S  SOLILOQUY          .         .         .         .138 

XIV. — ERDA'S  PROPHECY    .....  140 


viii  Contents 

PAGE 

XV. — THE  DEATH  OF  SIGURD     ....     149 

XVI. — BESIDE  THE  RHINE  .....     163 

INTERLUDE  .......     171 

BOOK  II 

ATTILA 

I. — HAGEN  AND  ANDVARI  .         .         .              175 

II. — GUDRUN'S  LAMENT  ....     182 

III. — CLAUDIUS        .         .  .         .         .         .185 

IV. — THE  APPARITION      .  .         .         .         .190 

V. — GUDRUN'S  SOLILOQUY  ....     193 

VI. — ATTILA  AND  GUDRUN  ....     195 

VII. — WESTWARD  Ho       .  .         .         .         .201 

VIII. — THE  HALL  OF  ATTILA  (Including  Claudius's 

Story) 204 

IX. — GUDRUN  AND  ANDVARI      ....     229 
FINALE  232 


Andvari's  Ring 


BooK  I.    Sigurd 


PRELUDE 


SIGURD  I  sing,  a  son  of  that  dark  north,- 

Of  that   wild    Scandian     mother-land   whence 

sprang 

The  sea-tost  hosts  who,  in  that  long  ago, 
The  bases  of  imperial  England  laid : — 
Such  as  were  they,  he  was — one  of  that  race 
Which  ever  loved  to  ride  the  restless  waves, 
Or  in  grey  Scandia,  its  ancestral  home, 
Dwelling,  or  in  the  Isles  of  Britain,  where 
Later  it  throve:  men  with  the  eagle's  heart, 
Storm-nurtured,  calm  amid  the  swirling  seas, 
Wanderers  upon  the  deep  until  this  day. 
Sigurd — his  birth,  his  life,  his  death,  I  sing. 


ii 


And  Thou,  O  Muse,  without  whose  aid  divine 
My  lips,  however  willing,  must  be  mute, 
Thee  I  beseech  my  numbers  to  inspire. 
Come  Goddess  now:  I  reverently  attend. 


• 


I 

GUDRUN'S  DREAM 


THE  fair  Gudrun,  in  her  bower  beside  the  Rhine, 
On  three  successive  nights  had  dreamed  a  dream, 
Piteous,  distressful ;  and  to  Ursula, 
Her   mother,    good    King    Dancrat's   widowed 

queen, 
She  thus,  with  tears,  unburdened  her  full  heart: 


ii 


"Dear  mother,  whilst  I  slept  within  my  bower, 
On  three  successive  nights  to  me  hath  come 
A  dream  whereof  the  meaning  I  know  not, 
Piteous,  distressful ;  for  methought  I  loved 
A  white  gyrfalcon,  more  than  aught  else  seemed, 
In  the  whole  world,  this  gallant  bird  to  me, 
With  eyes  so  bright,  and  plumage  like  the  snow. 
He  from  his  home  in  the  far  north  had  flown 
Southward  to  Burgundy ;  I  myself  had  tamed 
His  wandering  spirit,  and  upon  my  hand 
Content  he  sat  whene'er  I  rode  afield, 
4 


Gxidrxin's  Dream  5 

What  time  the  hern  we  hunted  with  our  hawks. 

But  one  thrice-sorrowful  day,  as  into  air 

Swiftly  he  rose,  sighting  his  quarry,  lo! 

Two  eagles  fierce,  wheeling  from  out  the  hills 

In  circles  vast,  inexorable,  grim, 

Beset  and  slew  him ;  and  methought  my  grief 

Was  like  the  grief  of  her  who  loses  all — 

Or  what  seems  all  when  Death  hath  struck  his 

blow — 
The  wife  her  husband  or  the  mother  her  child." 


in 


Then  spoke  Queen  Ursula:  solicitude 
Dwelt  in  her  voice,  disquiet  in  her  mien : 
"Oft  in  our  dreams  the  future  lives,  and  thus, 
My  daughter,  do  I  read  thy  vision  wild. 
Perchance  I  read  it  wrong;  but,  as  thou  know'st, 
At  Yule-tide  was  I  born,  the  seventh  child 
Of  seventh  child,  and  second-sight  is  mine — 
A  power  clairvoyant  granted  by  the  gods. 
This,  then,  the  interpretation  of  thy  dream: 
The  white  gyrfalcon  is  a  noble  youth 
Whom  thou  wilt  learn  to  love  with  all  thy  soul. 
The  eagles  fierce  two  cruel  warriors  are 
Whose  spears  shall  slay  thy  lord.    Alas,  Gudrun! 
Methinks  that  by  the  hand  of  Skuld  herself, 
Who  sits  beside  the  ash-tree  Ygdrasil 
Gazing  upon  the  future,  was  dispatched 
This  vision,  in  .whose  happenings  I  discern 


6  Andvari's  Ring 

The  dread  announcement  of  a  deed  to  come. 
Ruth  hath  my  mother's  heart  for  thee,  Gudrun; 
Thy  falcon  falls  before  the  eagles  twain. 
O  woeful  hour!     As  swift-descending  storm 
Darkens  the  day,  so  shall  this  murder  foul 
Becloud  the  sunny  springtime  of  thy  life. 
Thy   lord   lies   still   in   death.     So    speak   the 
Norns!" 

IV 

Thus  Ursula:  and  by  her  mother's  words 
O'ercome,  upon  an  ancient  couch  near  by, 
Like  broken  lily,  sank  the  fair  Gudrun. 


II 

THE  COMING  OF  SIGURD 


GUNTER,  the  king  of  the  Burgundians,  gave 
A   mighty  feast,  to  celebrate  that  day, 
Seven  years  before,  whereon  his  reign  began. 
For  when  his  father,  old  King  Dancrat,  died, 
Leaving,  besides  a  widowed  queen,  three  sons, 
Gunter  and  Giselher  and  Gernot  bold, 
And   one   fair  maid,    the   flower   of  the   land, 

Gudrun, 

Gunter,  the  eldest,  was  proclaimed  the  king. 
And  throve  his  kingdom.  For  a  respite  brief 
From  battle  left  men  time  for  kindlier  deeds. 
And  woods  were  felled;  and  fields  of  waving 

grain 

Covered  the  land;  and  towns  sprang  up  anew; 
And   trade   with   Rome,   increasing,    filled   the 

realm 
With  Roman  gold,  and  brought  to  wondering 

eyes 

The  silks  and  jewels  of  the  mystic  East. 
7 


8  Andvari's  Ring 

So  in  his  palace  by  the  Rhine,  where  dwelt 
A  Roman  pretor  once,  King  Gunter  bade 
Prepare  this  banquet,  to  commemorate 
The  day  his  hand  first  grasped  the  helm  of  state. 

II 

That  time  in  summer  was  it  when  the  days 
Longest  and  loveliest  are,  when  leafy  June 
Mantles  the  earth,  and  Gunter's  capital 
(Called  by  the  Romans  Borbetomagus, 
And  by  the  men  of  later  centuries  Worms) 
Sat,  like  a  beauteous  bride,  beside  the  Rhine. 

in 

Now  on  the  morning  of  the  festive  day, 
While  yet  the  summer  sun  was  low  in  the  east, 
Appeared  far  down  the  Rhine,  but  moving  up 
Against  the  stream,  their  sails  filled  by  the  breeze, 
Three   galleys.     Them   a   watchman  from   his 

tower 

Descried,  and  to  King  Gunter  brought  the  word. 
Whence  came  they  no  man  knew.     And  now 

the  wind 

Carries  them  nearer,  and  the  morning  sun 
Blazons  each  carven,  golden-headed  prow, 
And  gaily-broidered  sail.     And  lo!  within, 
Sitting  upon  the  rowers'  benches  some, 
And  others  grouped  on  forecastle  and  poop, 
The  bold  and  brawny  crews  of  mail-clad  men, 


XHe  Coming  of  Sigfurd  9 

Sons  of  the  ocean,  with  their  red  shields  hung 
Outboard  along  the  gunwales.     And  to  eyes 
That  watched   the  scene  the   foremost    galley 

looked 

A  mighty  dragon,  breasting  Rhine's  broad  flood. 
For  her  high-arching  prow  was  shaped  and  carved 
Like  dragon's  front,  with  gilded  crest  upreared 
Above  the  wave;  and  all  along  each  side 
The  warriors'  shields  like  dragon's  scales  ap 
peared; 

And,  looking  aft,  the  high  and  curling  stern 
Ended  a  dragon's  gilded  tail  in  air. 
And  of  her  sister  ships  a  great  wolf's  head 
Carved  out  of  wood,  with  grim  wide-open  jaws, 
One  bore  upon  her  bow,  the  other  a  bear's, 
Both  fancifully  gilded.     In  this  wise, 
A  gallant  sight,  were  built  these  galleys  three. 

IV 

Then  said  King  Gunter:    "Let  my  men-at- 
arms 

Be  ready,  but  no  hostile  act  disclose. 
Or  friend  or  foe  I  know  not,  but  methinks 
Peace  and  not  war  is  in  the  stranger's  heart." 


Now  toward  the  river's  bank  each  galley  turns, 
And  soon  the  sails  are  lowered,  and  in  a  cove 
Near  by  the  vessels  rest ;  and  from  the  side 


io  .Andvari's  Ring 

Of  one,  the  largest  galley  of  the  three, 
Whose  prow  a  gilded  dragon's  front  displayed, 
Is  thrown  a  gangplank  to  the  river  shore; 
And  over  this,  forthwith,  a  figure  steps — 
Tall — straight — with  wingM  helm  and  byrnie 

bright — 

And  after  him  a  score  of  viking  forms, 
With  spear  in  hand  and  shield  on  arm,  and  to 
ward 
The  palace  of  the  king  all  take  their  way. 

VI 

Now  when  the  strangers  to  that  spot  had  come 
Where  Gunter  stood,   flanked  by  his  men-at- 
arms, 

They  halted,  and  one  lifted  high  in  air 
A  snow-white  shield,  as  if  to  signal  Peace. 
And  he  who  seemed  the  leader — by  his  dress, 
And  face  and  noble  bearing — left  his  men, 
And  toward  King  Gunter  slowly  strode  alone. 
And  Gunter,  reading  in  the  stranger's  mien 
A  brother  ruler — whether  great  or  small 
He  knew  not,  still  a  leader  among  men — 
Stepped  likewise  from  his  soldiery  apart, 
And  toward  that  other  slowly  strode  alone. 
And  in  mid-field  the  two,  unguarded,  met. 

VII 

Spoke  then  the  stranger,  courteous  his  salute; 
"Art  thou  King  Gunter,  ruler  of  this  realm?" 


THe  Coming  of  Sigxird  II 

And   Gunter   answered:     "Aye."     That   other 

then: 

"My  name  is  Sigurd,  from  that  far  northland, 
Scandia  yclept  by  men  of  Roman  tongue, 
I  come,  with  these  three  galleys  which  thou 

seest 

In  yonder  cove,  and  mariners  six  score; 
All  hardy  Norsemen,  nurtured  by  the  sea, 
Rough  foster-mother,  from  their  earliest  days. 
Wanderers  are  we,  our  ships  our  homes,  our 

trade 

To  pull  the  oar,  to  steer,  to  set  the  sail, 
And,  when  occasion  calls,  to  draw  the  sword, 
For  like  the  eagle's  are  our  lives,  0  King! 
But  not  in  quest  of  booty  do  I  come 
Today,  nor  on  adventures  warlike  cruise, 
But  rather  to  fulfil  a  project  dear, 
Born  of  the  wandering  instinct  in  my  heart, 
And  grown  now  to  a  purpose  of  my  life 
O'ermastering: — To    behold,    ere    youth    and 

strength 

Depart,  and  old  age  mark  me  for  the  grave, 
The  mighty  world;  to  see  with  mine  own  eyes 
Rome,    and    the    wondrous    East,    and    what 

beyond 

Lies,  if  in  truth  there  lies  a  land  beyond, 
Or  holy  Asgard,  as  our  sagas  teach. 
And  up  this  noble  river  have  I  sailed 
These  many  days,  and  feasted  on  its  charms, 
Pursuant  to  this  purpose  of  my  heart. 


12  Andvari's  Ring 

Friends  are  we  then,  O  King,  and  friendship 

crave 

From  thee.     But  if  some  wild  adventure  wait, 
Or  thou  hast  present  need  of  gallant  men 
For  war,  which  oft  comes  when  expected  least, 
Command   my   sword.     These   be   all   vikings 

bold, 

Stout  sea-dogs  every  one,  who  know  not  fear, 
But  love  to  breast  the  buffets  of  the  storm 
When  blows  the  dark  northeaster  o'er  the  wave ; 
And  love  still  more,  while  valkyrs  o'er  them  fly, 
To  front  the  battle's  furious  stress;  to  hear 
The  battle's  music; — the  clash  of  sword  against 

sword, 

The  shock  of  axe  on  helm,  the  pit-a-pat 
Of  the  arrows'  hail  upon  the  shield.     True  sons 
Of  Odin  and  of  Thor  be  these,  O  King; 
And  what  I  bid  them  do  they'll  do — or  die." 


VIII 


He  ceased,  and  Gunter  thus  to  him  replied: 
"Welcome,   brave  knight,   to  the   Burgundian 

land! 

No  wars  have  I  at  present,  though  a  bold 
Adventure  long  hath  occupied  my  dreams 
(Of  which  hereafter  will  I  speak  to  thee), 
Wherein  thy  eager  spirit,  and  the  skill 
Of  these  stout  mariners  would  aid  me  much. 
But  for  today  let's  have  no  more  of  war, 


TKe  Coming  of  Sigurd  13 

But  wassail  only.     In  the  banquet  hall 

Of  yonder  palace  is  a  feast  prepared. 

Be  thou  my  guest,  brave  knight.     And  as  for 

these, 

Thy  merry  men,  they're  welcome  one  and  all. 
And  to  their  comrades,  who  in  yonder  cove 
Remain,  on  board  thy  sea-tost  ships,  I'll  send 
Cattle  and  sheep  and  ale  and  whate'er  else 
Is  found  upon  the  tables  in  the  hall, 
That  all  may  join  in  our  festivities. 
For  on  this  day,  seven  years  ago,  my  reign 
Began;  and  I  today  would  celebrate 
Fitly,  and  as  becomes  a  king,  the  event." 


IX 


He  ceased:  the  two  clasped  hands:  and  Sigurd 

thus, 
With  all  his  men,  became  King  Gunter's  guests. 


Ill 

THE  BANQUET 
(Including  Sigurd's  Narrative) 


THE  feast  is  on  in  Gunter's  banquet  hall, 
And  up  and  down  the  vast  interior 
(A  parallelogram  in  shape,  whose  length 
Extends  three  times  its  breath)  reigns,  every 
where, 
The  merry  wassail  of  the  olden  time. 

II 

Upraised  upon  a  dais,  at  one  end 
Of  the  great  hall,  the  table  of  the  king 
Athwart-ships  ran,  stretching  from  side  to  side. 
Here  sat,  apart  from  the  wild  feast  below, 
Yet  of  it;  seeing  all,  by  all  beheld; 
Gunter,  his  household,  and  his  guests  of  rank: — 
Ursula,  his  mother,  the  queen  dowager; 
The  fair  Gudrun,  his  sister  golden-haired, 
And  many  a  lovely  damsel  of  the  bower; 
14 


THe   Banquet  15 

Gernot  and  Giselher,  his  brothers  twain; 
Hagen,  the  captain  of  his  men-at-arms; 
And  others,  kin  or  in  authority: 
And  here,  the  guest  of  honour,  seen  of  all, 
Upon  the  king's  right  hand  Earl  Sigurd  sat. 

in 

Beginning  at  the  dais'  central  step, 

Set  at  right  angles  to  the  royal  board, 

A  mighty  table  ran  the  whole  hall's  length 

(Ran  fore-and-aft,  to  use  a  sailor's  phrase), 

And  here  were  Gunter's  men-at-arms  and  here — 

Each  one  between  two  spearmen,  that  the  guest 

Might  want  for  nothing — Sigurd's  vikings  sat. 

IV 

And  lackeys,  low  beneath  their  heavy  loads 
Bending,  brought  in  the  wild  boar  barbequed, 
And  quarter-beeves,  and  giant  platters  filled 
With  flesh  of  deer  and  sheep,  and  sucking  pigs 
Tender  and  savory,  and  great  loaves  of  bread, 
And  wild-fowl  grilled  and  served  on  wooden 

spits, 
And   huge  squab-pies,  and   fish   from  out  the 

Rhine, 

And  fruit  and  honey  from  Burgundian  farms. 
And  round  and  round  the  mighty  drinking-horns 
Passed   with   the   nut-brown   ale   or    sparkling 

mead, 


1 6  Andvari's  Ring 

Passed,  with  their  precious  freight,  from  lip  to 

lip, 

Ever  to  be  replenished  and  repass, 
Filled  from  great  casks  within  the  cellar  stored. 
And  Norseman  and  Burgundian  drank  "Was- 

hael" 

Each  to  the  other,  and  ere  the  bearded  lips 
Were  dry,  "Skoel  to  the  viking,"  and  again 
"Prosit, "  and  mellow  friendship  ruled  the  hour, 
For  Bacchus  doth  make  brothers  of  us  all. 
And  ever  and  anon  the  harpers  sang 
Their  songs  of  battle,  and  the  loud  applause 
Of  hands  and  voice  the  approbation  marked 
Of  warriors   who   themselves   had  fought   the 

fight. 

Sailors  their  yarns  did  spin,  and  soldiers  too, 
Each  vying  with  the  other,  and  merrily  wagged 
The  yellow  beards  as  in  Valhalla,  when 
With  Odin  and  with  Thor  the  heroes  feast. 
And  fiercer  harped  the  skald,  and  louder  rose 
The  laughter  and  the  Bacchanalian  song, 
Till  revel  inextinguishable  filled 
The  spacious  hall,   while  waxed   the  summer 

night 
To  midnight,  and  then  waned  into  the  dawn. 


Meanwhile,  upon  the  dais,  gentler  scenes 
Were    passing;    gentler    themes    engaged    the 
tongue ; 


THe  Banquet  17 

As  ever  must  it  be  when  ladies  sit 
Brave  knights  among,  and  lend  to  banquet  hall 
The  sweet  restraint  of  their  companionship. 
And  when  the  meats  were  ended,  and  the  sweets 
Circled  the  board,  and  gay  contentment  reigned, 
King  Gunter  bade  his  foremost  serving-man 
Each  golden  goblet  fill  with  Roman  wine, 
And  then,  toward  Sigurd  looking,  slowly  spoke: 


VI 


"On  this,  the  anniversary  of  that  day, 
Seven  years  ago,  whereon  my  reign  began, 
A  noble  guest,  from  the  far  distant  north, 
By  gales  auspicious  wafted  to  these  shores, 
Sits  with  us  at  our  banquet  table.     Him 
My  heart  doth  much  delight  to  honour.     Him 
I  ask  you  all  to  welcome  as  my  friend. 
Fierce    battles    hath    he    fought,    weird    perils 

faced — 

Faced  and   o'ercome.      And   if,    tonight,  per 
chance, 

Patience  he  hath  to  tell  us  of  his  life, 
And  all  its  strange  adventures  manifold, 
An  audience  willing  hath  he  at  this  board. 
But  if  the  toils  of  travel  him  have  left 
Wearied,  and  for  long  speech  yet  disinclined, 
Some  other  time,  more  opportune,  we'll  hope 
His  wanderer's  tale  to  hear.     Meanwhile  a  cup 
Of  good  red  wine  (wine  by  my  grandsire  brought 


18  Andvari's  Ring 

From  mighty  Rome,  made  on  the  rocky  hills 
Of  fair  Chianti,  precious  beyond  compare) 
Let's  drink  with  him — a  pledge  of  friendship 

true- 
Trusting  that  long  our  honoured  guest  he'll  be. 
Was-hael,  Earl  Sigurd!     Gunter  thee  salutes, 
And  welcomes  thee  to  Burgundy!    Was-hael!" 


VII 


So  speaking,  to  his  bearded  lips  he  raised 
The  golden  cup,  studded  with  precious  stones, 
Which  stood  beside  his  plate — now  to  the  brim 
Filled  with  the  rosy  wine  of  Italy. 
And  all  who  round  the  royal  table  sat, 
Fair  women  and  brave  men,  with  one  accord, 
Joined  in  the  monarch's  greeting  to  his  guest, 
Crying  ' '  Was-hael !     Earl  Sigurd ! ' '  while  in  cups 
Of  rosy  wine  friendship  to  him  they  pledged. 


VIII 


Theri  Sigurd,  rising  to  his  feet,  thus  spoke: 
"King  Gunter,  ladies,  knights — for  these  kind 

words, 

This  royal  welcome,  let  me  thank  you  all. 
Friends  may  I  call  you,  for  I  feel  that  friends 
We  are  and  shall  be.     Little  did  I  think, 
This  summer  morn,  as  up  yon  noble  stream 
I  steered,  with  vessels  three,  on  wanderings  bent, 


THe  Banquet  19 

That  I  such  courteous  words,  such  kindly  hearts, 
Such  regal  hospitality  should  meet. 
Surely  no  ladies  fairer,  knights  more  brave, 
Walk  the  green  earth  than  those  of  Burgundy. 
Surely    no    land — not    even   my    Northland — 

spreads 

More  beautiful  beneath  its  azure  skies 
Than  Burgundy.     Surely  no  country  boasts 
A  nobler  king  than  thou  art,  Gunter,  King 
Of  the  Burgundians.     And  since  thou,  tonight, 
Hast  honoured  me  by  asking  of  my  life, 
Its  wild  beginnings  and  adventures  weird, 
Right  gladly  will  I  speak,  and  briefly  tell 
My  tale.     But  first  to  thee  and  to  thy  house 
Friendship  and  fealty,  in  this  good  red  wine, 
I  fain  would  pledge.     And  may  the  gracious 

bond 
Never  be  broken,  wheresoe'er  I  roam!" 


IX 


He  lifted  high  in  air  his  golden  cup 

And  cried  ' '  The  King ! ' '     And  thereupon  uprose 

All  that  bright  company  of  knights,  and  stood 

With  golden  goblets  lifted  high  in  air, 

And    cried    "The    King!"     And    dames    and 

damsels  fair 

Echoed,  with  voices  sweet,  the  loyal  toast, 
Crying    "The    King!"     And    o'er    the    oaken 

board 


2O  Andvari's  Ring 

The  golden  goblets,  thus  upheld  in  air, 
Each  near  the  other,  formed  a  bright  ellipse, 
A  glittering  aureole  crowning  the  fair  feast. 
Beautiful  was  the  scene !    And  when  the  toast 
In  good  Chianti  had  been  drunk,  and  the  knights 
Once  more  had  ta'en  their  seats,  and  silence 

fell, 
Sigurd  began  the  story  of  his  life. 


SIGURD'S  NARRATIVE 


IN  the  far  Northland  was  I  born,  O  king! 
That  land  of  the  long  winter  night!     That  land 
Where  scarce  sets  the  midsummer  sun!     That 

land 

Of  mountains  and  blue  water,  where  the  fiords 
Of  ocean  with  the  forests  intertwine. 
Sigmund  my  father,  and  my  mother  sweet 
Siglinda.     In  Valhalla  rest  their  souls. 


II 


A  noble  king  my  father,  Sigmund,  was; 
Bright,  puissant,  the  brave  son  of  a  great  sire — 
Volsung,    a    name    renowned    throughout    the 

north. 

But  e'en  the  bravest,  when  his  hour  hath  come, 
Must  die,  for  who  can  strive  against  the  Noras; 
And  by  the  hand  of  Hunding,  son  of  Raud, 
A  king  cold-hearted,  evil-minded,  base, 
Was  slain  my  father.     So  the  grisly  night, 
Suddenly  swooping,  doth  blot  out  the  sun. 

21 


22  Andvari's  Ring 

And  by  the  hands  of  Handing's  warriors  fell 
All  but  a  remnant  of  my  father's  men — 
True-hearted  vikings,  but  the  fight  was  vain. 
And  harried  was  the  land,  and  cruel  spears 
Reddened  with  innocent  blood  the  mountain 

stream, 

And  flames  devoured  the  hamlet,  and  afar 
To  other  countries  fled  those  who  escaped, 
Till  in  my  father's  land,  at  last,  there  seemed 
Naught  living  but  the  vulture  and  the  wolf. 


Ill 


Now  deep  within  the  forest  hidden — so  deep 
That  Hunding's  spears  ne'er  found  his  habitat — 
There  dwelt  an  aged  man,  Regin  by  name. 
Him  oft  my  father's  hand  had  guarded,  him 
My  mother  had  befriended  oft.     A  smith 
Wondrous  was  he;  and  swords  and  spears  and 

shields, 

And  byrnies  bright,  and  battle-axes  keen, 
He  fashioned;  and  my  father  prized  his  skill 
Above  that  of  all  other  smiths,  and  praised 
The  strength  and  beauty  of  his  handiwork. 
Ancient  he  was,  none  knew  his  years,  no  kin 
He  seemed  to  have;  but  rumour  said  his  race 
Was  long  extinct,  he  only  had  survived, 
Carrying  his  knowledge  down  the  centuries. 
A  creature  of  a  different  age  he  seemed, 
Belonging  to  the  long-forgotten  Past. 


Sigxird's  Narrative  23 

Him  did  my  mother,  in  that  bitter  hour 

When  Handing's  hate  had  robbed  her  of  her 

lord, 

Remember  (as  the  hunted  deer  recalls 
A  refuge) ;  and  to  his  wild  forest  forge, 
With  rne,  a  boy  of  scarce  seven  years,  she  fled. 
And    thither   faithful    henchmen    brought,    by 

night, 

My  father's  body  and  his  broken  sword — 
Gram,  whom  the  hand  of  Odin  once  had  grasped. 
And  for  a  little  space  my  mother  lived. 
But  as  some  gentle  plant,  to  alien  soil 
Transferred,    droops   slowly   to   its   death,    so 

drooped 

My  mother,  and  did  slowly  waste  away; 
Till  came  a  time  when  her  the  woodland  wild 
Beheld  no  more,  and  in  that  world  above 
Her  gentle  spirit  did  rejoin  its  mate. 


IV 


And  Regin  took  the  boy,  myself,  and  taught — 
Or  strove  to  teach — his  crescent  spirit  all 
The  secrets  of  the  smith's  time-honoured  craft. 
How  from  the  primal  ore  to  summon  forth — 
Led    by   his    master-hand    through    changing 

shapes — 

Those  objects  bright  and  beautiful  and  strong 
Born  of  the  hammer  and  the  anvil.     How 
To  forge  the  spear's  head  and  the  arrow's  point, 


24  Andvari's  Ring 

To  fabricate  the  hauberk  and  the  helm, 
To  temper  the  bright  sword,  of  weapons  king, 
Till  like  Thor's  lightning-bolt,  swift,  terrible, 
'Twould  cleave  its  way,   unchecked,   through 

stoutest  steel. 

And  how  to  fashion  from  the  ruddy  gold 
Rings,  torques,  and  bracelets,  also  did  he  teach; 
And  drinking-cups,  o'erspread  with  lucky  runes. 
And  likewise  me  the  lore  of  Greece  and  Rome 
He  taught,  and  how  to  read  the  starry  heavens, 
And  in  the  art  of  skald  and  saga-man 
Instructed  me,  for  many  things  he  knew. 
Aye,  all  the  wisdom  of  the  world  seemed  his. 
And  these  I  loved,  for  somewhat  of  the  bard 
Doth  dwell  within  me,  and  my  hand  can  strike 
Deftly  the  harp  when  me  the  spirit  moves. 
But  I  the  smithy's  smoky  air  loved  not. 
Rather  the  green-leafed  forest  and  the  chase, 
Or  ocean,  and  the  long  lift  of  the  wave. 
My  part  to  wield  the  sword  and  boar-spear, 

not 

To  make  them.     For  each  spirit  hath  its  work, 
And  in  that  work  delights,  whate'er  it  be, 
And  doing  other,  joy  becomes  dull  toil. 
And  Regin,  though  the  same,  from  day  to  day, 
His  smithy-task  he  taught  me,  read  my  heart, 
And  knew  it  loved  the  forest,  not  the  forge, 
And  hungered  for  adventure,  not  to  pass 
A  sooty  lifetime  by  the  smithy  fire. 
But  pleased  he  seemed  with  his  wild  pupil's  bent 


Sigurd's  Narrative  25 

Rather  than  disappointed,  and  one  morn, 
Standing  beside  his  anvil,  thus  he  spoke: 


"Little  use  it  is  to  teach  King  Sigmund's  son 

The  secrets  of  the  patient  craftsman's  art. 

As  well  try  to  instruct  the  lion's  whelp 

In  all  the  busy  beaver's  wondrous  ways, 

Or  ancient  lore  of  the  laborious  ant. 

Willing  thou  art,  my  lad,  but  thou  wast  made 

For  other  things: — to  handle  men,  not  tools; 

To  battle  for  thy  people,  and  to  rule 

Justly  thy  realm.     For  every  age  hath  need 

Of  such  as  thou — fearless  and  strong  and  true. 

In  thee  thy  sire  and  grandsire  live  again. 

Take  thou  the  sword,  therefore,  mine  ancient 

hands 

Shall  forge  thee,  and  go  forth  into  the  world: 
Thy  father's  sword,  Gram,  which  in  that  last 

fight 

Did  Odin,  for  some  unknown  reason,  break. 
His  hand,  not  Hunding's,   'twas  which  struck 

the  blow, 

For  Gram  by  mortal  man  was  never  riven. 
But  not  for  us  it  is,  with  human  minds, 
To  question  the  high  wisdom  of  the  gods. 
The  sword  he  gave,  that  sword  he  took  away, 
And  now  to  thee  it  goes.     So  speak  the  Norns. 
Pray  sit  thee  down,  that  I  may  tell  the  tale. 


26  Andvari's  Ring 

VI 

"A  noble  hall  thy  grandsire,  Volsung,  built, 
Oblong  in  shape,  with  great  doors  at  each  end, 
And  fitted  up  within  with  tables  long 
And  benches  stout,  whereat  his  merry  men 
Wassai!ed,  while  on  the  wall  the  glittering  shield 
Hung  idle,  flanked  by  battle-axe  and  spear. 
And  in  the  middle  of  this  banquet  hall 
An  oak-tree,  vast  and  venerable,  grew — 
Branstock  his  ancient  name — whose  towering 

trunk 

Soared  through  the  roof,  and  in  the  outer  air 
Bloomed  with  a  myriad  branches.     Now  one 

night, 

When  lighted  were  the  fi  es  in  the  great  hall — 
For  winter  time  it  was — and  wagged  the  beards 
Merrily,  and  the  horns  of  nut-brown  ale 
Circled  the  board,  there  strode  into  the  hall 
A  stranger  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand. 
One-eyed  he  was  and  huge,  a  great  slouched  hat 
Betopped  his  golden  locks,  and  a  blue  cloak 
Covered  his  shoulders.     Not  of  earth  he  seemed, 
But  mystic,  superhuman.     Such  his  mien 
None  dared  accost  him.     Odin  'twas  in  truth. 
Through  the  great  hall,   and  toward  the  old 

oak-tree 

Swiftly  he  strode;  then,  for  a  moment,  stopped, 
And  into  Branstock  plunged  his  glittering  blade. 
Up  to  its  hilt  in  the  great  trunk  it  sank. 


Sig£\ircTs  Narrative  27 

Then  Odin  spoke :     '  Whoso  from  out  this  stock 
Shall  draw  this  sword,  to  him  it  shall  belong; 
A  gift  from  me.     No  better  weapon  lives 
'Twixt  earth  and  heaven.       Gram  have  I  named 

it — Gram 
The  Wrath/     So  saying,  from  out  the  banquet 

hall, 

Huge,  mystical,  he  passed;  and  in  the  night 
Vanished,  and  for  a  moment  none  dared  move 
Or  speak,  but  all  like  statues  dumb  remained, 
Awed  by  this  presence  from  another  world. 
Then  spoke,   at  last,  thy  grandsire,  Volsung, 

thus: 

VII 

'"Honoured  am  I  that  to  my  banquet  hall 
Hath  come,  this  night,  Odin,  of  gods  the  chief. 
And  honoured  will  that  puissant  warrior  be 
Who  from  old  Branstock  draws  the  glittering 

steel. 

Fain  I,  myself,  at  once,  would  clutch  yon  hilt 
And  make  the  attempt,  but  courtesy  forbids; 
And  to  my  guests,  in  the  order  of  their  rank, 
First  will  the  trial  be  given.     Earl  Sigger,  thou 
Lead  off,  and  Heaven  accord  thee  just  success/ 

VIII 

"He  ceased,  and  Sigger  rose — a  grim-faced  earl 
Of  forty  winters — and  with  brawny  hands 


28  Andvari's  Ring 

Grasped  the  bright  hilt.     With  might  and  main 

he  strove, 
While  from  his  sea-tanned  forehead  broke  the 

sweat 
Of   fierce   endeavour,    but   never   budged   the 

sword. 

And  then  stalked  forth,  one  after  another,  men 
Famous  of  eld,  lords  of  the  land,  and  clutched, 
In  turn,  that  hilt,  and  to  dislodge  the  blade 
Strove,  but  in  vain,  till  at  the  last  remained 
No    guest    without    his    trial.     Then    Volsung 

spoke: 

IX 

'"Methinks  the  opportunity  to  me 
Fairly  hath  come,  but  ere  I  set  my  hand 
To  draw  from  out  his  oaken  scabbard  Gram, 
I  would  that  Sigmund  first,  my  eldest  son, 
Essay  the  deed.     Eager  he  is,  I  know: 
Stout-hearted,  and  of  strength  beyond  his  years. 
Perchance  the  youth  may  win  where  men  have 
failed/ 


"At  this  thy  father,  then  a  lissome  lad 

Of  twenty,  tall  and  golden-haired,  stepped  forth 

And,  grasping  in  his  hands  the  bright  hilt,  drew, 

As  easily  as  from  out  a  limpid  pool, 

The  sword  of  Odin  from  the  old  oak-tree. 


Sigfxxrd's  Narrative  29 


XI 

"Amazement   reigned   and   awe  and,  in  some 

breasts, 

Black  envy,  which  doth  ever  dog  success. 
But  Volsung  proudly  smiled  upon  the  boy, 
And,  in  a  voice  affectionate,  thus  spoke: 

XII 

'"Honoured  art  thou,  my  lad,  above  all  men! 
Bright  doth  the  future  lie  before  thee!    Who 
Thee  can  resist,  with  Gram  within  thy  hand? 
Aye,  well  beloved  of  the  immortal  gods 
Art  thou,  Sigmund,  my  son.     Mind  that  thy  life 
Keep  to  high  levels,  like  the  eagle's  flight; 
Worthy  of  him  whose  favour  thou  hast  won.' 

XIII 

"Thereafter  did  thy  father  wear  the  sword 
Ever  upon  him,  and  in  many  a  fierce 
Battle  its  magic  virtues  proved;  and  ne'er 
Did  Gram  once  fail  him  till  that  fatal  hour 
When  Odin,  for  some  unknown  reason,  broke 
The  brand,  and  laid  thy  father  low  in  death, 
And  unto  hateful  Hunding  gave  the  fight. 

XIV 

"But  I  the  mystic  shards  have  kept,  and  now 
For  thee,  with  Odin's  help,  will  I  re-forge 


30  Andvari's  Ring 

Gram,  that  the  son  may  emulate  the  sire, 

And  thou  mayst  have  a  blade  meet  for  thy  need." 


xv 


So  Regin  took  the  shards  of  Gram,  and  forged 
From  them  a  sword  e'en  like  the  first,  with  hilt 
Golden,  and  mystic  runes  upon  the  blade. 
And  when  he  bore  it  from  the  forge — ere  yet 
The  hilt  was  fitted  and  the  runes  engraved — 
Fire  seemed  to  play  about  its  tempered  edge 
Like  lightnings.     And  I  grasped  the  sword  and 

cried: 
"Now,   Master,  will  we  prove  our  weapon!" 

With  that 

I  smote  the  smithy  anvil,  and  the  sword 
Clove  through  the  iron  block  down  to  the  stock, 
And  on  the  floor  the  anvil,  cut  in  twain, 
Rolled  heavily,  but  not  broken  was  the  sword 
Nor  dented,  and  I  cried,  "So  far,  so  good!" 
And  thereupon  we  went,  Regin  and  I, 
Out  to  a  mountain  stream,  and  Regin  cast 
A  lock  of  lamb's  wool  up  against  the  stream, 
And  when  it  floated  down  upon  the  sword, 
'Twas   cut   asunder,    so   keen-edged   was   that 

blade, 

And  wild  with  joy  I  waved  the  brand  on  high. 
Then,  grasping  Regin's  ancient  hand  in  mine, 
"Master,"  I  cried,  "through  thee  is  Gram 

re-born, 


Sigxird's  Narrative  31 

What  fierce  assaults  of  men,  what  perils  weird, 
Can  I  not  face,  with  this  to  back  my  cause ! 
Name  me,  0  Master,  some  adventure  wild 
Wherein  my  sword  a  baptism  red  may  earn, 
And  I,  perchance,  earth  of  some  monster  rid." 


XVI 


And  Regin  answered:     "Prescient  words   are 

these. 

Unwittingly  thy  lips  have  named  the  deed. 
If  thou  dost  win,  glory  world-wide  is  thine, 
Riches  incalculable.     If  thou  dost  lose, 
Grim  death  will  be  thy  portion.     On  yon  bank 
Let  us  sit  down,  that  I  may  tell  a  tale 
Of  bygone  years,   when   this  grey  spirit  was 

young." 

XVII 

Then  spoke  the  master  to  his  pupil  thus: 

"In  the  old  days,  when  the  gods  walked  the 

earth, 

Odin,  Loki  and  ancient  Hoenir  once 
Beside  a  waterfall  sat  down  to  rest; 
And  as  they  laughed  and  chatted  they  beheld, 
Not  far  away,  upon  the  river's  brink, 
An  otter  with  a  salmon  in  its  mouth, 
Caught  freshly.     Then  did  Loki,  in  whose  heart 
Mischief  was  ever  brewing,  cast  a  stone 


32  Andvari's  Ring 

Swiftly,  and  slew  the  otter,  and  its  skin 
Stripped  from  the  carcass,  and  gaily  to  his  belt 
Hung  it.     Quoth  he,  '  A  trophy  of  the  chase.' 

XVIII 

"Now,  in  the  evening,  to  a  woodsman's  hut, 
Hreidmar  yclept,  they  came;  and  when  the  man 
Sighted,  at  Loki's  belt,  the  otter's  skin, 
Dark  fury  seized    him.     'Murderer  base!'   he 

cried, 
'Whence  gattest  thou   that  skin?'     And  Loki 

smiled, 

And,  smiling,  spoke:     'Beside  a  waterfall, 
At  noon,  we  rested;  I  and  my  two  friends. 
And  as  we  laughed  and  chatted  we  beheld, 
Not  far  away,  upon  the  river's  brink, 
An  otter  with  a  salmon  in  his  mouth, 
Caught  freshly.     And  the  beast  I  slew  forthwith 
And  flayed  him,  and  his  pelt  about  my  waist 
Fastened.     Behold!    A  trophy  of  the  chase.' 


XIX 


" Then  Hreidmar:     ' Thou  hast  slain  my  young 
est  son, 

Otter,  who  oft,  by  witchcraft,  did  assume 
The  otter's  shape  that  he  more  easily 
Might  land  the  wily  salmon  from  the  stream. 
I  know  the  waterfall, — his  favourite  haunt. 


Sigurd's  Narrative  33 

Murderer   thou   art,    and   murderers   are   thy 

friends, 
And  straightway  shall   ye  die,  that  my  son's 

death 
May  be  avenged.  Ho!   Fafnir!   Regin!    Quick!' 

xx 

"At  this  there  strode  into  the  little  hut 
A  giant  low  of  brow,  of  aspect  fierce, 
Fafnir,  old  Hreidmar's  eldest  son;  and  him 
Close  following  came  the  second  son,  myself. 
Ages  ago  was  this,  when  earth  was  young — 
For,  as  thou  knowest,  my  life  is  full  of  years, 
Ancient  beyond  the  dreams  of  men — but  still 
Vivid,  distinct  as  yesterday,  doth  show 
Before  my  memory's  eye,  that  fatal  night. 
Well-armed    my    father    Hreidmar    was;    well- 
armed 

Fafnir  and  I,  with  spears  and  axes  good; 
And   hapless   seemed  the  plight   of   the   three 

gods; 

For,  as  thou  knowest,  when  the  immortal  gods 
Put  off  their  god-head,  and  assume  the  shapes 
Of  mortal  men,  and  walk  the  ways  of  earth, 
Subject  to  earthly  laws  they  straight  become. 
Thus  was  it  now,  and   hopeless  seemed  their 

plight; 

Spirits  eterne  in  earthly  bodies  caught; 
Valhallan  gods  by  earthly  churls  oppressed. 


34  Andvari's  Ring 

XXI 

"Then    suddenly    Hreidmar    to    his     victims 

spoke : 

'Villains,  one  chance  I'll  give  you  for  your  lives. 
Cover  yon  otter  skin  with  glittering  gold, 
Aye,  every  hair,  and  hence  ye  may  depart!' 

XXII 

"Then  Loki:  "Tis  a  bargain!     My  two  friends 
Here  will  I  leave,  fit  hostages,  and  soon 
Laden  with  glittering  gold  will  I  return.' 

XXIII 

"Beneath  the  waterfall  a  cavern  deep 
Opened,  though  from  the  prying  eyes  of  men 
Screened  was  its  narrow  entrance  by  the  fall. 
And  here  the  wily  dwarf,  Andvari,  dwelt, 
Chief  of  the  Niblungs;  and,  in  galleries  dark, 
Ever  his  gnomes  here  mined  the  yellow  gold.. 
And  here    was    hidden   that  Niblung  treasure 

vast, 

Famous  of  eld :  bags,  boxes  filled  with  coins 
Golden  and  silvern;  beautiful  ornaments — 
Rings,   neck-chains,    bracelets,    fillets    for    the 

hair, 

Brooches  and  buckles,  earrings,  lockets,  combs, 
All  of  fine  gold,  and  most  of  them  with  gems 


Sigxard's  Narrative  35 

Adorned,  with  dazzling  diamonds,  fairest  pearls, 
Rubies  and  sapphires,  opals,  emeralds  rare, 
Green  as  the  ocean  deeps  where  ^Egir  reigns; 
And  lamps  and  table  vessels  of  fine  gold — 
Wonderful  platters,  drinking-cups,  great  bowls, 
With  many  a  mystic  rune  inscribed  thereon. 
And  round  about,  upon  the  cavern  walls, 
Hung  swords  and  spears,  helmets  and  byrnies 

bright, 

Daggers  and  knives,  and  other  warlike  gear. 
And  in  the  nooks  and  crannies  of  the  rocks 
Strange   odds   and   ends   had   found   a   home. 

Whate'er 

Seemed  to  the  Niblung's  avaricious  eye 
Of  value,  great  or  small,  was  here.     A  hoard 
Motley  and  vast  it   was:  one-half,  methinks, 
Born  of  the  anvil  of  Andvari,  half 
Gathered    through    centuries    from    the    outer 

world. 

Spoil  of  slain  armies !     Loot  of  pillaged  homes ! 
Flotsam  and  jetsam  of  wrecked  argosies! 

XXIV 

"  Well  known  to  Loki  was  Andvari 's  hoard, 
And  in  his  present  need  thereto  he  turned, 
Though  little,  in  Valhalla,  do  the  gods 
Value  earth's  riches.     In  that  high  abode 
All  joys  are  theirs:  naught  else  to  be  desired. 
Only  on  earth  is  yellow  gold  the  king. 


36  Andvari's 


XXV 

"  Now  oft,  within  the  stream,  below  the  fall, 
Andvari,  in  the  likeness  of  a  pike, 
Sported,  —  for  he  the  power  of  changing  shapes 
Possessed,  —  and  on  this  summer  evening  fair 
He  sought  its  cooling  waters  crystalline. 
Him  there  did  Loki  find,  and  in  a  net 
Magic  (by  Ran  the  wife  of  ^Egir  made) 
Captured,  and  thus  addressed  the  wily  dwarf: 

XXVI 

"  'Andvari,  well  I  know  thee:  naught  can  change 

That  serpent  eye  of  thine.     Loki  I  am. 

Now  listen:  three  bags  of  gold  must  thou  to 

night 

Take,  and  to  Hreidmar's  hut  them  swiftly  bear, 
That  I  my  friends,  Odin  and  Hoenir  old, 
May  ransom.     Gold  enough  an  otter's  skin 
To  cover,  aye,  every  hair,  Hreidmar  demands, 
For  I  unwittingly  have  slain  his  son. 
Quick  must  we  act.     How  say'st  thou,  Niblung? 

Yes? 
'Tis  well;  else  would  this  good  right  hand  have 

crushed 

Thy  miser's  life  out,  though  it  were  in  shape 
Of  fish  or  fowl  or  serpent  dark  disguised.' 

XXVII 

"He  ceased,  and  thus  Andvari  answered  him: 
4  Let  me  once  more  my  natural  shape  assume, 


Sig£\ird*s  Narrative  37 

And  I  will  strive  the  gold  to  gather.     Ah  me ! 
Good  Loki,  little  my  poverty  thou  know'st. 
But  I  will  do  my  best.     Yea,  three  full  bags 
Of  gold  I  promise.     Pray  release  me  now.' 

XXVIII 

"At  this  the  god  upon  the  frightened  dwarf 
Relaxed  his  hold  and  him  upon  the  ground 
Cast;  and  Andvari  straightway  reassumed 
His  human  shape  and,  toward  the  waterfall 
Moving,  cried  out,  '  Valhallan,  follow  me ! ' 

XXIX 

"Now  when  they  reached  the  cavern's  mouth 

the  dwarf 

Halted  and,  crying  'Enter!'  stood  on  one  side. 
And  Loki  entered  and  beheld  the  vast 
Chamber,  from  which  long  corridors  branched 

out, 

Leading  to  other  chambers  underground. 
And  everywhere  swart  Niblungs,  grimy  gnomes, 
His  eye  encountered :  bags  of  treasure  some 
Carried  to  and  fro,  and  others  at  the  forge 
Wrought,  and  yet  others  in  deep  galleries  toiled 
With  pick  and  shovel — all  on  labour  bent, 
Labour  unending.     And  Andvari  cried, 
1  Ho  slaves !    Three  bags  of  gold ! '    And  straight 
way  rushed 


38  Andvari's  Ring' 

Three  Niblung  gnomes,  and  seized  the  bags,  and 

them 

Fetched  to  their  master.     And  Andvari  said, 
'  Here  is  the  gold.     Let  us  away ! '     At  once 
Each  gnome  upon  his  back  hoisted  a  bag 
And,  following  Loki  and  Andvari,  passed 
Out  of  the  cave,  into  the  forest  wild. 

XXX 

"Now  when  to  Hreidmar's  fateful  hut  had  come 
This  strange  procession  Loki  through  the  door 
Strode,    smiling,    followed     by     the     Niblung 

chief, 

Andvari,  and  his  grimy  goblins  three, 
Who  on  the  floor  their  bags  of  treasure  cast. 
And   Loki   cried,    'Here   is   the   gold!       Bring 

forth 

The  otter's  skin,  that  we  may  cover  it!' 
And  thereupon  my  father  brought  the  skin, 
And  stretched  it  on  the  floor,  and  fell  to  work, 
Greedily,  to  cover  with  the  shining  gold 
The  furry  garment  of  his  otter  son. 
But  though  at  first  more  than  enough  there 

seemed 

Of  treasure,  as  my  father  wrought  the  skin 
Grew  larger,  or,  at  least,  so  seemed  to  grow, 
Till,  at  the  last,  when  empty  was  each  bag, 
One  hair  upon  the  muzzle  of  the  beast 
Was  still  uncovered.     Then  my  father  spoke: 


Sigurd's  Narrative  39 

XXXI 

" '  Methinks  one  muzzle-hair — plain  to  be  seen — 
Is  not  yet  covered!     What  say  ye,  knaves,  to 

this? 

Know  that  your  bargain  ye  must  wholly  keep, 
And  covered  must  be  every  single  hair, 
Or  ye  must  die !    What  say  ye,  villains?  Quick ! ' 

XXXII 

"Then  Loki,  turning  to  Andvari,  spoke: 

'  Niblung,  hast  thou  more  gold  ? '     Answered  the 

dwarf: 
'No  more  have  I,  my  lord;  here  or  elsewhere.' 

XXXIII 

"But  Hreidmar's  was  the  greed  insatiate.     Thus 
Coldly  he  spoke :     '  Methinks  upon  the  hand 
Of  that  dark  dwarf  a  glittering  ring  I  see — 
A  golden  serpent  with  two  ruby  eyes — 
Throw  that  upon  the  skin  and  ye  are  free.' 

XXXIV 

'  *  Andvari  then :     '  Rather  my  life  than  that ! ' 

XXXV 

"But,  wild  with  the  lust  of  gold,  old  Hreidmar 

clutched 

Fiercely  the  dwarf;  and,  him  as  in  a  vise 
Holding,  from  off  his  finger  wrenched  the  ring. 


40  Andvari's  Ring 

XXXVI 

"Rage  uncontrollable  Andvari  seized. 
'Accurst  for  evermore  be  Hreidmar!    Accurst 
For  evermore  be  Hreidmar's  house!'  he  cried. 
'Accurst  be  he  who  wears  the  Niblung's  ring! 
Accurst  be  he  who  holds  the  Niblung's  gold! 
May  hate,  disease,  misfortunes  dire,  all  ills 
Conceivable,  unutterable  woe, 
Tortures  of  mind  and  body,  pursue  the  steps 
Of  him  who  wears  the  ring  or  holds  the  gold ! 
Curst  be  his  lot  until  his  dying  day ! 
O  woe!    Woe!    Woe!    What  now  is  life  to  me! 
Lost  is  the  Niblung's  power  without  his  ring!' 

XXXVII 

"But    Hreidmar    only    laughed.     'Begone    ye 

knaves ! 

Free  are  ye  one  and  all !    And  as  for  thee, 
Impudent  dwarf,  I  fear  thy  curses  not.' 

XXXVIII 

"Thereafter  went  the  gods  upon  their  way 
Rejoicing,  and  the  Niblung  sought  his  cave; 
But  Hreidmar  gathered  up  the  glittering  gold, 
And  in  the  sacks  re-stowed  it,  and  beside 
His  treasure   watched,   sleepless,   till   morning 
dawned. 


Sigurd's  Narrative  41 

XXXIX 

"Then    Fafnir    huge,    whose    glowering    face 

bespoke 

Evil  within,  addressed  our  father  thus: 
4  Meseems  'twere  fairer,  since  three  bags  of  gold 
The  Niblung  brought,  that  each  of  us  one  bag 
Take  as  his  share,  and  not  that  all  the  gold 
To  thee  alone  should  go.     Good  sons  are  we, 
Trusty  and  strong;  and  had  it  not  been  for  us, 
Regin  and  me,  with  our  stout  spears,  methinks 
'Twould  have  gone  hard  with   thee.     Let  us 

divide, 

Therefore,  the  Niblung's  gold  into  three  parts, 
One  part  for  each.     What  say'st  thou,  father 

mine?' 


XL 


"But  Hreidmar  answered  curtly:     'I  trow  not. 
The  gold  is  mine,  and  mine  it  shall  remain.' 


XLI 


"Then  Fafnir:     ' Miser!    Thy  blood  be  on  thy 

head!' 
And  straightway  through  our  father's  body  he 

drove 

His  spear  gigantic,  and  prone  upon  the  floor, 
With  a  great  cry,   old   Hreidmar  tumbled, — 

dead. 


42  Andvari's  Ring 


XLII 

"Thus  went  into  effect,  without  delay, 
The  Niblung's  Curse:  like  a  malignant  star, 
Launched  into  ether  by  demoniac  hands, 
Henceforth  to  burn,  casting  its  influence  dire 
On  all  who  wear  the  ring  or  hold  the  gold. 

XLIII 

"And  Fafnir  pulled  from  his  dead  father's  hand 
The  Niblung's  ring,  and  placed  it  on  his  own 
(A  golden  serpent  with  two  ruby  eyes), 
And — me,  perchance,  mistrusting — from  the  hut 
His  treasure  bore,  seeking  some  safer  spot; 
Till,  wandering  through  the  wood,  he  came  at 

last 

(Led,  peradventure,  by  some  power  occult) 
Unto  the  waterfall,  and  there  sat  down. 
And  long  he  gloated  o'er  his  glittering  gold. 
And  as  he  gazed  upon  the  ring  he  kissed, 
Softly,  the  shining  band;  and  straightway  came 
From  out  the  cavern's  mouth  the  Niblung  dwarf, 
Andvari,  and  knelt  down  upon  the  sand 
Low  before  Fafnir,  crying  'What  wouldst  thou 

have? 

Slaves  of  the  ring  are  we,  I  and  my  gnomes. 
Whoso  possesses  that  possesses  us. 
A  power  unseen  impels  us  though  we  strive 
Against  its  bidding.     Whoso  possesses  us, 


Sigurd's  Narrative  43 

His  is  the  Niblung's  gold :  that  mighty  hoard, 
Garnered    through     the     centuries.      If     thou 

wouldst  enjoy 
The  glorious  spectacle,  enter  and  claim  thine 

own.' 

XLIV 

"So  saying,  the  dwarf  arose;  and,  with  both 

hands, 

Pointed  to  the  waterfall ;  then,  bowing  low, 
Strode  toward  the  cavern's  mouth;  and  Fafnir, 

filled 

With  wonder  and  greedy  joy,  him  followed  close. 
And  when  the  son  of  Hreidmar  saw  the  Hoard, 
Motley  and  vast,  seemingly  limitless, 
He  laughed,  and  smote  his  hands  together,  and 

cried, 

'Ah,  luckiest  mortal  in  the  world  am  I! 
Here  will  I  bide,  amidst  my  glittering  gold ! ' 
And  there  abode  he;  but,  as  passed  the  years, 
Slowly  he  changed  from  bad  to  worse,  and  grew 
Into  a  thing  of  horror,  half  man,  half  beast; 
And  in  the  end  a  creature  wholly  beast 
Became,  a  dragon  loathsome,  hideous,  fierce, 
Cruel  and  powerful,  from  whose  scaly  hide, 
Hard  as  wrought  iron,  the  sharpest  spear  re 
bounds, 

All  unavailing.     And  there  abides  he  still. 
But  I,  within  my  father's  hut,  alone, 
Deep  in  the  forest,  dwelt  for  many  a  year. 


44  Andvari's  Ring 

And  later,  from  that  sage  of  ancient  days, 

Mimer,  the  wisest  man  in  all  the  North, 

I  learned  the  sword-smith's  art.     Then,  as  thou 

knowest, 
King  Sigmund  sought,  and  him  served  till  he 

died. 
And  now  what  thinkest  thou  of  my  story,  lad?" 

XLV 

"Fafnir,"  I  answered,  "shall  be  Gram's  first 

meat. 
What  say'st  thou,  Master?    Brother  of  thine 

is  he, 

I  know,  but  also  murderer  of  thy  sire. 
Earth  were  well  rid  of  him.     Is  it  not  so? 
Thy  silence  gives  approval,  Master  mine. 
Today  will  I  make  ready  for  the  fight; 
Tomorrow  will  I  face  this  monster;  aye, 
E'en  in  his  lair.     May  Odin  grant  success!" 

XL  VI 

"And  wilt  thou  take  the  treasure  and  the  ring 
Attainted?    Wilt    thou    brave    the    Niblung's 
curse?" 

XLVII 

Thus  Regin,  and  to  him  I  made  reply: 
"I  know  not.     What  think'st   thou?     'Twere 
well,  indeed. 


Sigurd's  Narrative  45 

To  ponder  this.     Perchance,  when  comes  the 

hour, ' 

Odin  my  course  will  guide.     Great  plans  have  I, 
Master,  for  the  future.     Firstly,  to  avenge 
My  father's  death,  and  Hunding's  sons  destroy; 
And  next,  with  ships  and  men  to  sally  forth 
O'er  the  great  ocean,  distant  lands  to  view. 
For  these  things  gold  were  welcome — gold  to 

buy 
Stout  galleys,  gold  to  man  them.    Think'st  thou 

not, 

Master,  that  if  this  now  attainted  hoard 
Were  put  to  uses  good  the  curse  might  die?" 

XLVIII 

And    Regin    answered:    "Aye,    perchance    it 

might; 

And  yet  I  fear  'twill  not.     Terrible  to  me 
It  seems,  this  ancient  curse,  and  fraught  with 

ills 

Unending.     But  my  spirit  fails  with  age, 
And  ever  doubtful  and  despondent  grows; 
Fearful  of  all  things,  longing  for  life's  end: 
Not  like  the  buoyant  soul  that  lives  in  thee, 
Bright  as  the  sun  of  Easter-month  and  strong. 
Balder  thou  art,  methinks,  come  back  to  earth; 
Balder,  the  springtime  jubilant,  whose  face 
Fronts  the  inconstant  future  with  a  smile; 
Eager  to  breast  the  battle  and  the  gale; 


46  Andvari's  Ring 

Eager  to  pit  thyself  against  the  world 
And  try  which  be  the  stronger,  it  or  thou. 
Balder  thou  art,  but  Hoder  old  am  I, 
Hoder,  the  winter,  white  with  deepening  snows. 
Little  I  know,  now  at  life's  end;  but  if 
'Tis  possible  to  bring  the  curse  to  naught 
Thy  plan  will  do  it:  evil  thwart  with  good. 
But  let  me  end  this  tale,  while  yet  my  tongue 
Hath    power   of    speech,   for    shadows   of   the 

grave 

Beset  me,  and  scarce  comes  my  fleeting  breath. 
Death's  hand  upon  my  stiffening  limbs  I  feel. 
Methinks  the  end  is  near.     List  now,  my  lad ! 
When  I  am  gone  search  thou  the  smithy  chest — 
A  map  thine  eyes  will  find — the  waterfall — 
The  Niblung's  cave — not  far  from  here  they  lie. 
Easily  to  be  reached  when  once   the  way  is 

known. 

Go  forth  and  do  the  deed.     Long  hath  the  world 
Waited  for  thee.     May  Odin  guide  thy  hand ! ' ' 

XLIX 

So  saying,  from  its  earthly  dwelling-place, 
Swiftly,  with  scarce  a  bodily  tremor,  passed 
The  ghost  of  Regin;  and  as  from  the  fields 
Rises  the  laverock  to  the  azure  sky 
Rejoicing;  so,  methinks,  that  noble  soul, 
Leaving  its  worn-out  garment,  rose  in  air, 
Rejoicing  to  Valhalla,  and  there  abides. 


Sigurd's  Narrative  47 


But  I — when  near  the  smithy  door  these  hands 
His  withered  frame  had  buried — my  Master's 

words 

Remembered,  and  sought  out  the  ancient  chest, 
And  searched  within  its  depths,  and  found  the 

map, 

E'en  as  his  dying  voice  had  bidden  me.     Lo! 
Traced  on  the  yellow  parchment,  plotted  with 

care, 

The  waterfall — the  Niblung's  cave!     Not  far 
From  the  old  smithy  was  the  spot,  a  scant 
League  through  the  forest ;  easily  to  be  reached 
When  once  the  way  was  known.     And  in  my 

hand 

I  grasped  my  father's  weapon,  Gram  the  Wrath, 
The  gift  of  Odin,  now,  by  Regin's  skill 
Re-born  for  me;  and,  lifting  him  on  high, 
I  swore  before  the  morrow's  sun  should  set 
To  slay  the  dragon  or  myself  be  slain. 


LI 


Now  when  the  moon  had  risen  I  wandered  out 
Into  the  forest,  and  though  my  first  intent 
Had  been  to  sally  forth  at  break  of  day 
On  my  adventure,  fresh  and  strong  from  sleep, 
Yet  ever  toward  the  Niblung's  cave  my  feet 
Moved,  by  a  power  resistless  drawn,  like  steel 


48  Andvari's  Ring 

Drawn  by  the  magnet,  so  that  I,  ere  long, 
Had  gone  full  half  the  distance.     Suddenly,  then, 
Before  me,  like  a  spectral  shape,  appeared, 
Right  in  my  path  standing,  a  figure  strange. 
One-eyed  he  was  and  huge,  a  great  slouched  hat 
Betopped  his  golden  locks,  and  a  blue  cloak 
Covered  his  shoulders.     Not  of  earth  he  seemed, 
But  mystic,  superhuman.     Such  his  mien 
Awe  filled  my  bosom.     Odin  'twas  in  truth. 
Quoth  he:     "Where   goest   thou,   Sigurd?"     I 

replied : 
' '  Faf nir  to  slay . ' '     Then  he :    ' '  And  f ear 'st  thou 

not 
To  attempt  the  deed?    Faf  nir  is  strong  and 

fierce, 

Cruel  and  terrible."     "But  I  fear  him  not, " 
I  cried.     "Within  my  hand  I  hold  the  sword 
My  father,  Sigmund,  from  the  old  oak-tree 
Wrested;  the  gift  of  Odin,  Gram  the  Wrath, 
Re-born  through  Regin's  skill.     Why  should  I 

fear 
This  dragon?     Through  his  loathsome  mail  my 

blade, — 

Magic,  invincible, — will  I  thrust,  and  pierce 
His  devil's  heart.     No !     No !     I  fear  him  not ! " 
Then  Odin:     "Worthy  son  of  a  brave  sire 
Art  thou,  my  lad :  courage  aye  wins  success. 
But  list !     Wait  not  until  tomorrow  dawns, 
But  go  tonight.     Each  morn  comes  Fafnir  forth 
From  out  his  lair,  the  Niblung's  cavern  vast, 


Sigurd's  Narrative  49 

To  slake  his  thirst  beside  the  waterfall. 
His  trail  thou  wilt  perceive  in  the  soft  sand. 
Dig  thou  tonight  a  pit,  narrow  and  deep, 
Upon  the  trail,  and  stand  within  the  pit, 
And  when  at  break  of  day  comes  Fafnir  forth 
And  moves  along  his  trail,  and  covers  thee, 
Thrust  upward  with  thy  sword  and  pierce  his 

heart. 

Farewell. ' '     So  saying, — like  a  wraith  that  comes 
Out  of  the  unknown,  and  shows  itself,  and  then 
To  the  unknown  returns, — he  disappeared. 


LII 


So  swiftly  through  the  forest  now  I  strode, 

My  heart  on  fire,  until  the  waterfall, 

White  in  the  moonlight,  did  mine  eyes  behold. 

And  to  the  stream  below  the  fall  I  came, 

And  searched  upon  the  sand,  and  straightway 

found 

The  dragon's  trail;  and  on  the  trail  I  dug, 
With  my  good  sword,  as  Odin  had  bidden  me, 
A  pit,  narrow  and  deep,  then  into  the  pit 
Got,  sword  in  hand,  and  waited  for  the  dawn. 


LIII 


Now  at  the  earliest  light  came  Fafnir  forth, 
From  out  the  Niblung's  cave,  his  thirst  to  slake; 
And  as  I  stood  within  the  pit  my  gaze 

4 


5°  Andvari's  Ring 

Followed  his  every  motion.     Huge  his  frame, 
Armoured    with    dusky    scales:    his    upreared 

head 

Helmeted  like  the  basilisk's :  his  eye 
Malignant,  like  the  basilisk's,  and  cold; 
Repulsive,  as  in  every  age  hath  been 
The  eye  of  reptile,  filling  with  strange  fear, 
Horror  inexplicable,  the  hearts  of  men. 
His  giant  jaws  were  partly  open;  his  whole 
Saurian  visage  ruthless,  terrible. 
Along  the  earth  his  length  ten  fathoms  stretched, 
Loathsome  to  look  upon.     A  crocodile 
With  wings,  he  looked,  but  huger;  more,  me- 

thinks, 

Like  some  vast  brute  of  earlier  ages  born. 
Out  from  his  lair  beneath  the  waterfall 
He  passed,  then,  turning,  down  along  the  stream 
Pursued    his    sluggish    course.     Hideous    the 

sight! 

But  I,  e'en  when  he  neared  me,  felt  no  fear. 
And  as  his  carcass  lumbered  o'er  the  pit, 
And  sudden  darkness  filled  the  narrow  space, 
Up  through  his  yellow  under-hide  I  drove 
Gram  to  his  heart.     Forth,  like  a  river,  rushed 
The  dragon's  blood;  and  me  from  head  to  foot 
In  liquid   blackness   bathed.       (For   black   as 

night 

Was  Fafnir's  blood,  compound  of  evils  gross.) 
Then  from  the  pit  I  clomb,  and  drew  the  steel 
From  out  the  monster,  who  me  thus  addressed: 


Sigurd's  Narrative  51 

LIV 

"What  man  art  thou  whose  crafty  thrust  hath 

drawn 
My  life-blood?    And  what  purpose  moved  thy 

heart  ? 

Unknown  thou  art  to  me,  unharmed  by  me. 
Whence  comest  thou?     Who  hath  urged  thee 

to  this  deed?" 

LV 

Then  I:    "Fafnir,  thou  knowest  me  not:  but 

thee 

I  know.     A  monster  execrable.     Right  soon 
Dead  wilt  thou  be  through  bite  of  my  good 

sword. 

Without  thee  earth  were  happier.     But  methinks 
Upon  thy  claw  a  glittering  ring  I  see — 
A  golden  serpent  with  two  ruby  eyes. 
That  will  I  take.     All  else  of  thee  may  rot." 


LVI 


Then  Fafnir:    "  'Tis  the  Niblung's  ring.   A  curse 
Goes  with  it.     Dost  thou  know  the  evil  tale  ? " 

LVII 

"The  tale  I  know,  but  nathless  will  I  take 
The  ring  and  wear  it.     The  Niblung's  gold  I 
need." 


52  Andvari's  Ring 

So  saying,  from  the  dragon's  claw  I  drew 

The  glittering  band  that  rules  Andvari's  hoard. 


LVIII 


''May  the  curse  blast  thee!"     Fafnir  screamed 
— then  died. 


LIX 


Then  from  the  cave  came  forth  the  Niblung 

dwarf, 

Andvari,  and  beheld  the  dragon  dead; 
Though  weltering  still  in  his  black  blood,  as 

worms, 

Both  great  and  small,  are  wont  to  do  when  slain. 
And  on  his  knees,  before  me,  fell  the  dwarf, 
Crying,  "Hail  Master!     Wearer  of  the  Ring! 
Whoso  possesses  that,  possesses  us — 
Custodians  of  the  Hoard.     What  wouldst  thou 

have? 

Immeasurable  wealth  is  thine.     Behold 
The  Niblung's  cave!     Enter  and  claim  thine 

own." 

And  straightway  (following  the  dwarf,  who  rose 
And  went  before  me)  toward  the  waterfall 
I  strode  and,  passing  underneath  the  force, 
Entered  the  narrow  portal  of  the  cave. 
And  thereupon  my  wondering  eyes  beheld, 
E'en  as  my  Master's  words  had  pictured  it, 


Sigxird's  Narrative  53 

The  chamber  vast  wherein  the  Niblungs  dwell. 
And  from  it  dusky  corridors  branched  out, 
Leading  to  other  chambers  underground. 
And  everywhere  swart  Niblungs,  grimy  gnomes, 
Mine  eyes  encountered :  bags  of  treasure  some 
Carried  to  and  fro,  and  others  at  the  forge 
Wrought,  and  yet  others  in  deep  galleries  toiled 
With  pick  and  shovel — all  on  labour  bent, 
Labour  unending.     And  Andvari  cried, 
"  Master,  here  shalt  thou  dwell  and  be  our  chief; 
Reigning,  like  Fafnir,  over  limitless  wealth!" 


But  I  the  crafty  Niblung  thus  bespoke: 
"Thy  gloomy  halls,  Andvari,  charm  me  not. 
Rather,  for  me,  the  open  air,  the  sun, 
The  moon,  the  stars,  the  forest  and  the  sea. 
Nathless,  great  projects  for  the  future  years 
I've  planned,  and  for  their  fit  accomplishment 
This   wealth    is   needed.       Therefore   bid    thy 

gnomes 
Three  sacks  of  gold  make  ready,  and  through  the 

wood, 

Straightway  to  Regin's  smithy  carry  them. 
Anon,  perhaps,  more  treasure  will  I  need 
My  plans  to  prosper;  therefore  be  prepared. 
Like  the  young  eagle  doth  my  spirit  burn 
To  spread  its  wings,  not  underneath  the  ground 
To  burrow  like  the  mole.     Dost  understand, 


54  Andvari's  Ring 

Niblung?     Remain  thou  here,  my  vassal  true, 
Custodian  of  the  Hoard;  remain  and  wait 
My  coming.     Be  thou  regent  here  for  me, 
Sigurd,  thy  master,  who  doth  wear  the  ring." 


LXI 

And  low  Andvari  bowed,  and  answered :     "  Aye, 
My  master,  well  I'll  guard  the  Hoard."     Then 

cried : 
"Ho    slaves!     Three    bags    of    gold!"      And 

straightway  rushed 
Three  Niblung  gnomes,   and  seized  the  bags, 

and  them 

Fetched  to  their  master.     And  Andvari  said : 
"Here  is  the  gold,  my  lord."     And  I  replied: 
"Let  us  away!"     At  once,  upon  his  back 
Each  gnome  a  bag  of  treasure  swung,  and  then — 
They  following  me — we  passed  out  of  the  cave, 
And  thence  to  Regin's  ancient  smithy  came. 
Here  did  the  gnomes  their  treasure  leave,  and 

then 
Straightway  unto  the  Niblung's  cave  returned. 


LXII 


Thereafter  did  I  seek  a  seaport  old, 
Not  far  away,  famed  as  a  rendezvous 
Of  fisherfolk  and  vikings;  and  here  bought 
Three  galleys  good  and  them  o'erhauled  and 
named 


Sigurd's  Narrative  55 

The  Dragon,  Wolf,  and  Bear ,  and  for  the  prow 
Of  each  the  shipwrights  carved  a  figurehead 
In  keeping  with  the  name,  and  gilded  it, 
And  fair  they  were  to  see.     (E'en  those  thine 

eyes 

Beheld  this  morn.)     And  then  for  each  I  shipped 
A  crew  of  lusty  lads,  all  ocean-bred, 
Skilful  with  oar  and  canvas,  sword  and  spear, 
Vikings  who  loved,  like  me,  the  wanderer's  life. 
And  when  to  snow-clad  earth  once  more  returned 
Bright  Balder,  and  unlocked  the  frozen  streams, 
And  lifted  from  the  world  its  mantle  white, 
And  spread  o'er  land  and  sea  his  prospering  airs, 
I  to  avenge  my  father's  death  set  out. 
And  up  the  coast  of  Norroway  we  sailed 
Unto  that  land  where  Hunding  once  did  rule. 
Long  since  was  Hunding  dead,  but  o'er  the  land 
Still  ruled  his  breed,  two  cruel  sons  and  false, 
Lyngi  and  Horward ;  and  upon  their  coasts 
Falling,  fierce  as  the  famished  wolf,  by  night, 
We  caught  them  unawares,  at  wassail,  and  slew 
All  but  a  handful  of  their  men-at-arms, 
And  left  the  banquet  hall  a  blazing  pyre. 
And  at  the  last  the  two  kings  turned  to  fly, 
Craven,   but  I  faced  them  in  their  flight  and 

cried : 

"Be  men,  not  swine!     Sigurd  am  I,  the  son 
Of  Sigmund,  whom  your  father  foully  slew. 
Prepare  to  die!"     And  Lyngi,  the  elder,  raised 
His  sword  to  strike,  but  ere  he  struck,  fell  Gram, 


56  Andvari's  Ring 

Swiftly  descending,  upon  his  helm,  and  clove 
Helmet  and  head  and  mail-clad  body  in  twain. 
And  on  the  ground  the  two  halves  fell  apart. 
And   Horward,   likewise,   did   Gram  cleave  in 

twain, 

E'en  as  he  turned  to  fly.     Then  from  the  land 
Of  Hunding's  sons  I  passed, — my  father's  death 
Avenged, — and  that  fair  territory  sought 
Which  Hunding  from  my  noble  sire  did  wrest — 
That  spot  beloved  where  first  the  light  of  earth 
My  infant  eyes  beheld.     Gone  was  the  home 
Where  Sigmund  once  and  sweet  Siglinda  dwelt — 
That  no*ble  hall  my  grandsire,  Volsung,  built, 
Up  through  whose  roof  the  mighty  oak-tree 

soared, 

Branstock,  and  bloomed  within  the  outer  air: 
That  hall  where  once  the  bearded  heroes  sat 
Drinking,  with  lightsome  hearts,  the  nut-brown 

ale; 

While  on  the  lofty  wall  each  glittering  shield 
Hung  idle,  flanked  by  battle-axe  and  spear; 
That  hall  to  which,  amidst  the  wassail,  came 
The   one-eyed   stranger   with   the   unsheathed 

sword, 

Odin,  and  silent  stalked  across  the  room, 
And  into  Branstock  plunged  the  glittering  blade. 
Gone  was  that  noble  hall,  by  Hunding's  hand 
Fired  on  that  midnight  twice  seven  years  before, 
When  fell  my  father  and  my  mother  fled, 
As  flies  the  stricken  deer,  to  Regin's  forge. 


Sigurd's  Narrative  57 

Gone   was   my   childhood's  home,    and,    as   I 

walked 

About  the  blackened  spot  where  once  it  stood 
Tears  filled  my  eyes.     Then,  from  afar  and  near, 
Hearing  of  my  return  whom  they  thought  dead, 
Came,  in  the  months  which  followed,  henchmen 

old, 

Who  for  my  father  oft  had  borne  the  spear. 
And  these,  and  many  others,  me  besought 
Henceforth  to  abide  with  them  and  rule  the  land. 
And  for  a  time  I  tarried  and,  perchance, 
Better  had  it  been  if  I  had  there  remained, 
Ruling  the  kingdom  which  my  father  ruled. 
But  evermore  the  call  of  the  great  world, 
In  accents  irresistible,  I  heard — 
Sweet  voices  from  beyond  our  boreal  seas, 
Voices  from  out  the  magic  realms  of  Rome, 
Singing  of  ampler  knowledge,  higher  arts 
Of  nobler  manners  and  a  fuller  life; 
Singing  a  land  by  Nature's  kindliest  smile 
Illumined,  of  all  earth  the  garden  spot; 
A  fair  domain  in  which  the  Midland  Sea 
Lay  like  a  sapphire  in  a  golden  brooch; 
A  land  enchanted,  where  the  stately  walls 
Of  villas  and  of  palaces  uprose 
Innumerable,  by  gardens  fair  begirt, 
Under  whose  bosky  shade  pale  statues  stood; 
Singing  a  nation  proud  and  puissant,  dam 
Of  valiant  sons,  who  to  their  mother's  knee 
The  treasures  of  remotest  earth  had  brought; 


58  Andvari's  Ring 

Singing  a  realm  ruled  from  the  Tiber's  banks; 
A  peaceful  land  by  warriors'  spears  upheld; 
An  ordered  state  where  safe  was  each  one's  life; 
An  empire  splendid  as  the  midday  sun, 
Within  whose  bounds  the  mind  of  man  had 

reached 

Its  highest,  and  his  hand  had  wrought  its  best, 
And  which,  like  the  great  sun,  did  radiate 
Upon  our  earth  its  light  beneficent. 
This  and  yet  more  the  voices  sang  to  me, 
Till  on  my  spirit  a  wild  wander-lust 
Seized,  and  dissatisfied  were  all  my  days. 
So  in  my  place  a  kinsman  strong  and  true, 
In  whom  the  blood  of  Volsung  likewise  ran, 
Thorwald,  surnamed  The  Incorruptible, 
I  left  as  ruler  of  the  little  state, 
And  for  a  cruise  began  to  make  prepare 
Long  and  uncertain.     Stores  my  ships  required. 
And  of  the  mariners  who  with  me  sailed 
Against  the  sons  of  Hunding  some  were  slain 
And  others,  having  wife  and  bairn,  perchance, 
Loved  not  so  long  a  voyage,  so  with  men 
From  my  own  land  the  vacancies  I  filled, 
Till  every  ship  her  complement  contained — 
Some  youngsters  like  myself,  old  sea-dogs  some, 
Greybeards  who  had  my  father  Sigmund  served, 
And  loved  the  son  because  the  sire  they  loved. 
And  for  the  Wolf  and  Bear  captains  I  chose, 
Strong  men  by  nature  fitted  for  command. 
Eric  the  Wanderer  one,  who  on  the  deep 


Sigurd's  Narrative  59 

Was  born,  and  all  his  life  upon  the  deep 

Had  dwelt,  till  scarce  he  knew  'the  touch  of 

earth: 

To  him  the  Wolf  I  gave.     And  to  the  Bear 
Hakon  the  son  of  Haldan  I  assigned. 
A  man  of  temper  fierce,  yet  wise  withal, 
Intrepid,  yet  a  cautious  counsellor. 
And  of  the  largest  vessel  of  the  three, 
The  Dragon,  I  myself  assumed  command. 

LXIII 

Then  set  we  sail  once  more,  with  eager  hearts, 
And,  bearing  westward,  sought  the  famous  isle 
Of  Britain,  where  till  late  the  Roman  ruled. 
And  first  the  foggy  Shetlands  we  beheld, 
And  landed,  and  Norse  rovers  like  ourselves 
Everywhere  found,  on  wild  adventure  bent, 
Hovering  like  ospreys  ere  they  strike  their  prey. 
Thence  to  the  Orkneys  southerly  we  sailed, 
And  likewise  here  the  ships  of  Northland  found, 
For  springtime  'twas,  and  every  viking  bold 
His  summer  cruise  was  planning,  and  in  dreams 
Himself  beheld  returning  to  his  home — 
What  time  the  autumn's  briefer  days  are  come — 
With  galleys  laden  to  the  water's  edge, 
Silver  and  gold  and  splendid  booty  his. 
Then  down  the  rocky  Caledonian  coast 
We  made  our  way  until  that  famous  wall 
Which  Roman  Hadrian  built  against  the  Picts 


60  Andvari's  Ring 

We  reached,  and  here  a  while  on  shore  I  stayed, 

That  I  might  view  this  marvel  of  men's  hands. 

From  ocean  unto  ocean  it  extends, 

From  far  Ituna  on  the  western  shore 

To  Segedunum  on  the  east,  where  falls 

The  river  Tyne  into  the  Northern  sea. 

Aye,  fourscore  miles,  o'er  hill  and   dale   and 

plain, — 

Rising  and  falling  with  the  varied  land — 
It  stretches,  like  some  sleeping  serpent  vast. 
Built  is't  of  stone,  with  ample  fosse  in  front; 
So  broad  its  top  that,  at  the  narrowest  parts, 
Three  men  with  shields  and  spears  can  walk 

abreast ; 

And  all  along  that  top  a  line  of  towers — 
Endless  unto  the  eye  it  seems — stands  guard; 
And  all  along  behind  the  wall  great  camps, 
Cities  more  like,  at  intervals  are  reared. 
Here,  till  of  late,  the  Roman  stood  on  guard 
Northernmost  outpost  of  his  empire  vast. 
A  wondrous  sight  it  was  to  me,  this  wall, 
To  me  whose  eyes,  though  hoping  to  behold 
Earth's  greatest  works,  perchance  e'en  Rome 

itself, 

Had  seen,  as  yet,  naught  but  the  wilderness, 
Grey  ocean,  and  the  mountains  of  the  North. 
A  wondrous  sight  it  is,  though  swift  decay 
Already  hath  begun  to  sap  its  strength. 
For  Rome,  today,  is  not  what  she  hath  been, 
And  hath  abandoned  Britain  to  its  fate, 


Sigurd's  Narrative  61 

And  so,  perforce,  neglected  stands  the  wall. 
And  in  that  distant  island  where  once  reigned 
Law,  and  secure  were  property  and  life, 
And  years  of  peace  had  brought  prosperity, 
Confusion  now,  low  crime  and  rapine  rule; 
And  like  a  wife  left  husbandless,  who  stands 
Alone  and  unprotected,  is  the  land, 
Bereft  of  the  strong  shelter  of  Rome's  arm. 

LXIV 

Now  once  more  to  the  southward  did  we  steer, 
Skirting  the  rugged  coast,  till  Humber's  mouth 
We  reached  and  entered  and,  as  in  the  isles 
Of  Orkney  and  of  Shetland,  here  we  found 
The    Norsemen's   ships,    aye,    everywhere    we 

went, 

In  port  or  on  the  wing,  they  seemed  to  be, 
With  broidered  sails  and  golden  figureheads 
Glittering  in  the  sunshine,  and  the  warriors' 

shields, 
When  o'er  the  deep  they  journeyed,  outboard 

hung 

Along  the  gunwales.     And  to  me  the  thought 
Came,  and  hath  lingered  with  me  ever  since, 
That,  as  the  Roman  hath  this  favoured  isle 
Abandoned  to  its  fate,  to  sink  or  swim, 
Perchance  'twill  be  the  Norseman's  destiny 
To  people  and  to  rule  it,  and,  in  truth, 
A  land  well  suited  is  it  to  our  race. 


62  Andvari's  Ring 

LXV 

Then  down  the  coast  once  more  we  sailed  away, 
Past  many  a  headland  bold  and  harbour  snug, 
Until  at  last  the  mouth  of  Thames  we  reached. 
And  here  I  should  have  entered — for  my  plan 
Was  and  still  is,  at  future  day,  to  see 
Londinium,  of  all  British  towns  the  chief, 
The  largest  and  the  richest  in  the  isle, — 
But  learning  that  unfriendly  were  the  folk, 
And  being — though  my  vikings  scoffed  at  fear — 
Not  overstrong  in  ships  and  men,  I  deemed 
Prudence  the  part  of  wisdom  and  forebore. 
Then  hearing  praise  of  Burgundy  and  thee, 
And  longing  to  behold  the  river  Rhine, 
I  bade  farewell  to  Britain's  foggy  land. 
Thence  borne  along  by  favourable  winds, 
We  toward  the  Frisian  coast  our  galleys*  heads 
Turned,  and  that  level  region  sighted  soon — 
Low   as   the   ocean — where,    through    many   a 

mouth, 

Rhine's  waters  pass  into  the  Northern  sea. 
And  by  that  mouth  we  entered  where  doth  lie 
Batavia's  famous  isle — Batavian  once, 
Then  Roman  and  now  Frank — but  showing  still, 
In  many  a  solid  road  and  well-built  wall, 
And  many  a  fortress  fashioned  with  all  skill, 
Strongest  the  impress  of  Rome's  master  hand, 
For  Rome  doth  ever  build  to  last  for  aye. 
A  noted  spot  hath  always  been  this  land 


Sigxird's  Narrative  63 

Right  at  Rhine's  mouth.     Here,  from  the  gloomy 

depths 

Of  the  Hercynian  Forest  came,  at  first, 
The  fierce  Batavi  and  upon  this  isle 
Founded  a  habitation  and  a  home; 
Here,  later,  by  that  sibyl  fair  inflamed 
Bructerian,  who  within  the  dark  tower  dwelt, 
Civilis,  chafing  from  his  chains  unjust, 
Marshaled  his  doughty  clans  and  fought  with 

Rome; 

And  here  his  fleet  the  son  of  Drusus  formed, 
Wherewith  to  bear  his  legions  to  the  Elbe, 
And  subjugate  the  warlike  Teuton  land — 
A  task  e'en  for  Germanicus  too  great, 
For  though  in  battle  thrice  his  foes  he  drave 
Before  him,  yet  unconquered  was  the  land, 
And  hath  remained  so  till  this  very  day. 
But  let  me  to  my  narrative  return. 
O'er  all  this  low  Rhine  country  now  doth  rule 
(As  well  ye  know,  Burgundians,  whose  domain 
Borders  upon  his  own)  a  Frankish  king, 
Wise  Merovaeus,  son  of  Clodion.     Him 
Haply  I  met,  and  friendly  were  his  words, 
Bidding  me  tarry  long  within  his  realm, 
Or   up    the    Rhine    proceed    with    ships    and 

men, 

As  my  convenience  suited.     And  although 
Pleasant  it  would  have  been  to  linger  there 
Tasting  the  welcome  of  our  new-found  friends, 
The  wanderer's  heart  within  me  drove  me  on. 


64  Andvari's  Ring 

LXVI 

So  set  we  forth  once  more,  'twixt  fertile  shores 
Steering,  low  as  the  wave,  until,  at  last, 
From  out  that  hollow  land  of  dune  and  dyke 
Emerging,  we  to  loftier  regions  came. 
And  as  our  little  fleet  the  noble  stream 
Ascended  slow,  day  after  day  my  eyes 
Some  thought-compelling  spectacle  beheld. 
For  on  our  right,  with  many  a  tower  and  town, 
Was  Rome,  or  what  was  once  the  Roman  realm, 
And  on  our  left  the  peoples  of  the  North. 
And  oft  upon  the  future  of  this  land 
I  mused,  and  wondered  whether  e'er  again 
Would  Rome  her  pristine  puissance  regain, 
Or  whether  here  the  peoples  of  the  North — 
Thy  race  and  mine,  0  king, — should  henceforth 

rule. 
And  to  my  mind  it  seemed  that  Rome  must 

pass, 

That  her  all-conquering  arm  must  some  time  fail, 
And  her  illuming  sun  must  some  time  sink; 
And,  after  night,  another  sun  must  rise, 
Another  day  must  dawn  upon  the  earth, 
Another  race  must  rule  these  hills  and  streams, 
Perchance  the  fair-haired  children  of  the  North. 
For  such  is  Nature's  way.     Empires  like  men 
Grow    old    and  die,   and  in  their  place  new 

states, 
Like  generations  new  of  men,  arise. 


Sigurd's  Narrative  65 

LXVII 

Thus  musing,  day  by  day,  at  last  I  came 
Unto  thy  realm,  here  royal  welcome  found, 
And  now  join  with  thee  at  this  festal  board 
To  celebrate  the  auspicious  hour  wherein, 
Seven  years  ago,  thy  happy  reign  began. 

End  of  Sigurd's  Narrative 
LXVIII 

He  ceased ;  and  round  the  mighty  table  ran 
The  applause  of  many  hands;  and  from  the  lips 
Of  knights  and  ladies  who,  erstwhile,  had  sat 
Rapt  listeners,  words  of  warm  approval  rose. 
The  buzz  of  many  voices  filled  the  air. 
Then  Gunter  thus :     "A  gallant  tale  well  told. 
Metfrnks  our  brother  of  the  North  was  born 
A  warrior  and  a  saga-man  in  one. 
Like  the  first  Caesar,  whom  our  fathers  fought, 
The  mighty  Julius,  well  he  tells  his  deeds. 
We  thank  him  one  and  all.     But  let  us  not 
Him  weary  with  a  feast  too  long  drawn  out, 
For  after  travel  nature  craves  repose. 
One  parting  cup  we'll  have,  and  then  goodnight." 

LXIX 

So  saying,  from  his  seat  he  rose  and  stood, 
Six  feet  of  kingliness,  before  his  guests; 

5 


66  Andvari's  Ring 

Then,  lifting  high  in  air  his  golden  cup, 
Studded  with  precious  stones,  and  crying,  "Sir 

Knights, 
Here's  to  the  ladies!    Our  sweethearts  and  our 

wives, 

Our  mothers  and  our  sisters!     Here's  to  all!" 
He  set  the  beaker  to  his  bearded  lips 
And  quaffed,  to  the  last  drop,  the  ruddy  wine. 
And  likewise  did  the  knights  with  one  accord 
Rise,  at  the  selfsame  moment  as  the  king, 
And,  standing  with  uplifted  goblets,  cry 
''The  Ladies,"  and  drink  down  the  good  red 

wine. 

And  on  the  hand  of  Sigurd,  as  he  held 
His  cup  aloft  and  quaffed  the  ruddy  draught, 
Was  seen,  by  those  near  by,  the  jewel  rare 
Whereof  his  lips  had   spoken:   the   Niblung's 

.    ring, 

A  golden  serpent  with  two  ruby  eyes, 
Shining,  with  baleful  light,  beneath  the  lamps. 


IV 

THE  TOURNAMENT 


Now,  that  he  might  still  further  celebrate 

His  coronation's  anniversary,  and 

Still  further  entertain  his  Northland  guests, 

Gunter  proclaimed  a  day  for  manly  sports — 

Contests  of  strength  and  skill :  athletic  feats 

And  martial  exercises  manifold, 

Such  as  all  vikings  love,  for  Sigurd's  men: 

For  the  Burgundian  knights  a  tournament. 


II 


Bright  rose  the  summer  sun  above  the  Rhine, 
Blazoning  the  river  and  the  plain  beyond, 
Filled,  on  this  morning  of  the  tournament, 
Already  with  a  concourse  of  brave  knights. 
Here,  in  a  spacious  meadow,  smooth  and  green, 
Betwixt  the  city  and  the  forest  set, 
Were  placed  the  lists.     Here,  on  the  close-cut 
sward, 

67 


68  Andvari's  Ring 

In  shape  a  giant  crescent,  gay  with  flags, 
Rose  the  pavilion  of  the  king.     And  here, 
Arrayed  in  gala-day  apparel,  drest 
In  gowns  of  every  colour,  reigned  The  Fair — 
The  dames  and  damosels  of  Gunter's  court, 
The  flowers  of  Burgundy,  high  o'er  the  lists 
Sitting,  sweet  umpires  of  the  deeds  of  men. 
Here,  of  the  fair  the  fairest,  sat  Gudrun. 


Ill 


Now,  when  all  things  were  ready,  the  heralds 

blew 

Their  horns;  and  Sigurd's  sailors  on  the  green 
Appeared,  guests  of  the  king,  and  therefore  first 
To  show  their  prowess  on  the  listed  field. 


IV 


Running  and  wrestling  matches  then  were  seen; 
Throwing  the  hammer,  vaulting  with  the  pole; 
The  tug  of  war,  wherein  the  brawny  crews 
Of  Sigurd's  ships  against  each  other  strove. 
And  then  the  archer's  skill  the  throng  engrossed, 
And  fencing  bouts,  and  casting  the  swift  spear, 
And  other  warlike  exercises.     All 
Of  these  the  crowd  beheld  with  keen  delight, 
Greeting  with  many  a  cheer  or  loud  ' '  Well  done ! " 
The  winners  of  each  trial  of  strength  or  skill. 


THe  Tournament  69 


Next  comes  the  chief  event,  the  tournament, 
Wherein  two  parties  of  Burgundian  knights 
Strive  for  the  victory.     Gathered  on  each  side 
Of  the  great  meadow  now,  impatiently, 
The  signal  they  await.     And  first  a  blast 
Preparative  the  heralds  sound,  and  straight 
The  turnpikes  of  the  lists  are  opened  wide, 
And  on  the  level  field  the  knights  debouch, 
Gay,  clad  in  glittering  mail,  a  gallant  sight, 
Each  with  his  lady's  favour  round  his  helm 
Fastened,  or  from  left  shoulder  hanging  free. 
One  party  in  the  north  end  of  the  field 
Ranges,  in  the  south  the  other.  The  heralds  next 
A  second  signal  give,  and  thereupon 
Each  cavalier  his  spear  and  shield  doth  dress 
And  everything  makes  ready.     Now,  at  the  third 
Blast   of  the   trumpets,   lo,    they're  off!     The 

knights 

Put  spurs  to  their  good  steeds  and  o'er  the  field 
Against  their  adversaries  ride  full  tilt. 
The  meadow,  beaten  by  tempestuous  hoofs, 
Trembles  as  in  an  earthquake;  while  the  din 
Of  charging  squadrons  fills  the  expectant  air. 
(Ah,  wildly  flutters  now  each  maiden's  heart!) 
As  two  great  ocean  surges  sometimes  rush 
Against  each  other,  driven  by  contrary  winds, 
So  rush  these  rival  companies  of  knights 
Each  against  other  and,  meeting  in  midfield, 


70  Andvari's  Ring 

Shock,  with  a  sound  like  distant  thunder,  or 
The  boom  of  the  swift  surf  upon  the  shore. 
And  many  a  broken  lance  flew  up  in  air, 
And  many  a  lusty  knight  to  earth  was  thrown, 
And  wildly  did  the  crowd  the  victors  cheer. 

VI 

Then  spoke  King  Gunter  unto  Sigurd  thus: 
"Wouldst  like,  Sir  Knight,  to  try  a  tilt?     Al 
though 

Unused  thou  art  to  our  Burgundian  ways, 
Gallantly  I  know  thou  wouldst  acquit  thyself." 

VII 

And  Sigurd  answered:     "Knightly  tournament 
Ne'er  have  mine  eyes  beheld  until  this  hour. 
Yet  from  my  boyhood  to  bestride  a  horse 
Hath  been  my  keen  delight;  that,  and  to  ride 
The  restless  waves  of  ocean,  the  untamed  steeds 
Of  the  wild  waste  of  waters.     The  horseman's 

skill, 

Therefore,  is  mine  already,  perchance  some  touch 
Of  the  tourney's  art,  all  unknown  to  myself, 
May  come  to  me  as  down  the  lists  I  ride 
Against  mine  adversary,  and  I,  the  esquire, 
May  tilt  the  knight.     Yet,  if  I  be  o'erthrown, 
What  matter ?     'Tis  but  the  sport  of  a  summer's 

day, 
And  wiser  for  the  lesson  shall  I  be." 


XHe  Tournament  71 

VIII 

Then  Gunter:     "Thou  dost  speak  like  a  true 

knight. 

Our  Hagen  here  will  try  a  tilt  with  thee, 
The  captain  of  my  men-at-arms,  the  best 
Lance  in  all  Burgundy.     Come,  Hagen,  show 
Our  sailor  guest  how  Rhinelanders  can  joust." 


IX 


And  Hagen,  grim,  black-bearded,   with   great 

frame 

Teutonic,  saying,  "Thy  wish  is  law,  my  king," 
Stepped  down  into  the  lists,  and  soon  appeared 
Armed  cap-a-pie,  ready  for  the  mimic  fray. 


Then  yet  again  spoke  Gunter  to  his  guest: 
"Take  thou  my  charger,  and  my  tilting  lance, 
Gauntlets  and  shield,  for  thine  own  arms,  fair 

knight, 

Are  all  too  serious  for  our  sportful  jousts. 
'Tis  but  mock  combat.     And  if  thou  wouldst 

wear 

Favour  of  some  sweet  lady  in  the  lists, 
As  doth  beseem  knight  young  and  comely,  lo, 
Choose  from  yon  bunch  of  beauties ! "    So  saying, 

he  glanced 


72  Andvari's  Ring 

Upward  to  where,  a  lily  in  the  midst 
Of  clustering  roses,  sat  the  fair  Gudrun, 
Begirt  by  the  twelve  damsels  of  her  bower. 

XI 

And  Sigurd:    "If  it  be  not  overbold, 

Sire,  to  thus  voice  the  verdict  of  my  eyes, 

This  wise  my  thought  doth  run: — above,  below, 

To  right,  to  left,  nothing  so  beautiful 

As  the  fair  Princess  of  the  realm  I  see; 

Gudrun,  the  lily  maid  of  Burgundy. 

Her  favour,  thou  being  willing,  I  fain  would 


XII 

Then,  by  her  brother  bidden,  down  stept  Gudrun 
From  that  array  of  beauty,  and  round  the  arm 
Of  Sigurd  bound  her  favour,  a  blue  sleeve 
Broidered  with  golden  lilies.     And  as  she  bound 
Deftly  the  sleeve  she  murmured,  "Thou,  Sir 

Knight, 

My  champion  art";  and  Sigurd  answered  low, 
"Princess,   with  this,  thy  token,  round  mine 

arm, 
Methinks  I  could  o'erwhelm  a  world  of  men." 

XIII 

And  Sigurd  the  king's  charger  mounted  and  took 
His  tilting  lance  and  shield  and  gauntlets  e'en 


THe  Xo-urna  merit  73 

As  Gunter  him  had  bidden ;  and  to  the  north 
End  of  the  spacious  meadow  rode  and  there 
Waited  the  signal.     And  Hagen  in  the  south 
His  station  took,  and  silent  there  abode, 
Motionless,  gigantic,  like  some  towering  shape 
Equestrian,  by  the  sculptor  wrought  of  bronze. 
And  Sigurd's  horse  was  snow-white,   but  the 

steed 

Of  Hagen  black  as  midnight  was.     And  thrice 
The  trumpets  blew,  and  at  the  third  blast  the 

knights — 
Sunshine  against  shadow — moved  to  the  assault. 

XIV 

And  Sigurd  dressed  his  shield  and  couched  his 

spear 
And,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  dashed  down  the 

field 

Like  a  whirlwind:  and  the  blue  sleeve  of  Gudrun, 
Made   fast   near   his  left   shoulder,    backward 

streamed 

Like  pennant  in  the  gale,  beheld  of  all, 
Her  favour.     And  full  tilt  at  Hagen  he  rode, 
And  in  the  midst  of  his  defences  struck 
The  Burgundian  knight.     And  Hagen,  by  the 

shock 

Lifted  from  out  his  saddle  and  backward  borne, 
Reeled  o'er  the  crupper  of  his  horse,  and  fell 
Half   a  spear's    length    behind.      And  on  the 

sward, 


74  Andvari's  Ring 

Stunned  by  the  fall,  all  motionless,  he  lay, 
Seemingly  dead.     And  silent  the  people  sat 
At  sight  of  their  great  champion  overthrown. 
But  Gunter  cried :     * '  Well  done,  Sigurd ! ' '     And 

the  crowd, 
Hearing    the    king's    voice,    broke    forth    into 

cheers. 


xv 


Then  came  attendants  out  and  Hagen  bore, 
Half-conscious,  from  the  lists;  and  led  away 
The  sable  charger,  whinnying  for  his  lord. 
And  thus,  that  day,  the  sports  came  to  an  end. 


XVI 


And  Sigurd,  dreaming  of  Gudrun,  forgot — 
Or  but  remembered  as  light  sport — his  joust 
With  Hagen;  but  the  dark  Burgundian  knight, 
Being  vanquished,  forgot  not  his  vanquishment ; 
And,  brooding  ever  o'er  the  event,  hot  rage 
Against  his  vanquisher  turned  to  hatred  cold, 
Which,  like  a  venomous  serpent,  dwelt  concealed 
Within  his  breast,  waiting  its  time  to  strike. 


V 
SIGURD  AND  GUDRUN 


WITHIN  her  bower  the  lily  maid  Gudrun 
Sat  with  her  damsels  twelve  and  with  deft  hands 
Rich  hangings  for  the  palace  walls  they  wrought. 
And  of  these  hangings  there  were  seven,   and 

each 

The  fair  presentment  of  a  deity 
Bore  on  its  front,  in  divers  coloured  threads 
Embroidered.     The  Supernal  Powers  they  were 
To  whom  the  seven  days  of  every  week 
Are  sacred.     Them  upon  the  costly  cloth 
The  damsels  wrought  in  gorgeous  colourings. 


II 


Now  as  they  worked  came  Sigurd  to  the  bower 
And  looked  within,  and  him  Gudrun  beheld 
And,  smiling,  cried,  "Enter,  my  lord.     Today 
We  maidens  toil  upon  a  mighty  task. 
These  seven  hangings  for  the  banquet  hall 
75 


76  Andvari's  Ring 

We  fain  would  finish.     For  a  year  and  more 
Them  have  we  worked  upon;  but  now,  at  last, 
Methinks    they're    nearly    done.     Behold,    my 

lord! 

Knowest  thou  these  ancient  deities  for  whom 
The  seven  days  of  every  week  are  named?" 

in 

And  Sigurd  answered,  "Aye,  I  know  them  well." 
Then,  gazing  on  the  broideries,  each  in  turn, 
While  to  his  words  the  lily  maid  Gudrun 
And  all  her  damsels  twelve,  a  lovely  sight, 
Listened  with  rapt  attention,  thus  he  spake. 

IV 

1  'Behold,  of  all  the  first,  the  golden  Sun 

Shining  upon  this  lofty  mountain  top ! 

The  source  of  light !     The  eye  of  Odin  great ! 

All  vivifying — all  sustaining  Power! 

Him  do  we  honour  on  the  week's  first  day, 

Him  do  we  praise.     For  what  were  this  dark 

earth 

Without  his  light — thrice  blessed,  heavenly  light  ? 
E'en  as  the  halls  of  Hela  cold,  where  dwell 
The  spirits  of  the  wicked  ones,  would  be 
This  world  of  ours  without  his  glorious  lamp ! 


"Next  comes  Our  Lady  of  the  silver  moon. 
Her  do  we  honour  on  the  second  day. 


Siffurd  and  G-udrun.  77 

Well  have  ye  done,  fair  maids,  to   paint   her 

thus — 

Shining  at  night  upon  the  tranquil  sea, 
Smiling,  perchance,  upon  the  mariner 
As  homeward  to  his  heart's  desire  he  goes — 
His  heart's  desire  who  in  her  bower  doth  sit, 
Gazing  at  Luna  and  her  lane  of  light, 
And  longing  for  her  lover  in  her  arms. 
Ah  Moon,  fair  Moon,  how  beautiful  thou  artl 


VI 


"But  what  a  change  when  to  the  week's  third 

day 
We  come!     Behold,   equipped  with  helm  and 

spear 

And  byrnie  bright,  the  one-armed  god  of  war, 
Brave  Tyr,  whose  missing  limb  the  Fenris  Wolf 
Tore  off,  in  fury,  at  the  elbow  joint! 
A  bright  exemplar  for  us  all  is  Tyr. 
Him  must  we  follow,  ladies  fair,  we  men, 
And  for  our  wives  and  bairns  and  country  dear, 
If  so  the  Fates  decree,  give  limb  or  life. 
So  did  god  Tyr.     So  ever  do  the  brave. 


VII 


"What  noble  shape,  all-puissant,  have  we  here? 
Puissant  yet  sad.  The  fourth  day  of  the  week. 
In  honour  of  great  Odin  is  it  named: 


78  Andvari's  Ring 

Father  of  gods  and  men;  of  heaven  and  earth 

The  ruler.     E'en  the  realms  beneath  the  earth, 

Where  the  grim  goddess  Hela  doth  pursue 

With  lashes  punitive,  for  all  their  crimes, 

The  evil  spirits  of  the  underworld, 

His  sway  acknowledge;  and  old  ocean's  king, 

The  green-haired  ^Egir,  doth  salute  him  lord. 

Only  the  pallid  Norns  do  him  defy. 

The  sisters  three  of  Fate,  who  sit  far  off, 

Outside  of  Time,  and  the  beginning  see 

Of  all  this  earthly  pageant  and  the  end. 

Above  the  plains  of  Ida  and  the  homes 

Of  all  the  gods  they  dwell,  these  mystic  ones, 

Spinning  the  thread  of  life,  inscrutable. 

Of  aspect  beautiful,  methinks,  are  they, 

And  yet  unpitying,  suited  to  their  task; 

For  though  with  prayer  and  sacrifice  we  seek 

To  turn  them  from  their  purpose,  'tis  in  vain — 

Nor  man  nor  god  can  change  their  dread  decrees. 

E'en  as  a  maiden  from  the  flax  doth  spin 

A  golden  thread  and,  for  a  moment's  space, 

Gazes  upon  it,  gently  handling  it, 

Then  cuts  the  thread  to  its  allotted  length; 

So  do  these  sisters  three  the  thread  of  life 

Draw  forth  from  out  the  unknown  and,  for  a, 

space 

Smiling  upon  it,  cut  it  to  its  length. 
But  to  this  fair  presentment  let's  return — 
This  figure  of  the  father  of  the  gods. 
Upon  his  throne  in  Asgard  here  he  sits, 


Sigurd  and  Gxidrun  79 

Gazing,  perchance,  upon  the  world  below. 
He  holds  within  his  hand  a  mighty  spear. 
His  ravens  twain,  Hugin  and  Munin  wise, 
Sedately  perch  upon  the  high-backed  seat; 
While  on  the  floor  his  fierce  and  faithful  wolves 
Crouch,  like  great  dogs,  beside  the  monarch's 

feet. 

A  noble  broidery  this,  fair  demoiselles, 
Well  suited  to  the  palace  of  a  king. 


VIII 


"Red-bearded  Thor,  whose  golden  chariot  leaps 
From    cloud    to    cloud,    by    goats    impetuous 

drawn, 

What  time  in  guise  of  summer  shower  he  comes, 
While  heaven  re-echoes  with  his  rumbling  wheels 
And  trembles  in  affright  the  deluged  earth — 
Red-bearded  Thor,  girt  with  the  belt  of  strength, 
Wearing  the  gloves  of  steel  wherewith  he  hurls 
Miolnir,  his  mighty  hammer,  which  returns 
Ever  when  thrown,  into  its  master's  hand — 
Red-bearded  Thor,  blustering  but.well-belov'd, 
The  idol  of  each  Norseman's  heart — to  him 
We  give  all  honour  on  the  week's  fifth  day! 
Behold  him  now !     See  how  he  Miolnir  throws ! 
The  lightning  'tis  which  from  the  swollen  cloud 
Darts    to    the   earth.     Almost,   methinks,    we 

hear 
The  roar  and  rumble  of  his  chariot  wheels. 


8o  Andvari's  Ring 

IX 

"What  lovely  shape  is  this?    Tis  Freya  fair! 
She  who  in  Greece  was  Aphrodite  called — 
Venus  in  Rome.     Goddess  of  Love  is  she, 
Sprung  from  the  foam,  child  of  the  surging  deeps, 
Forever  young,  forever  beautiful ! 
So  we  have  her  all  other  things  are  naught, 
Who  doth  bestow  on  men  the  joys  of  heaven. 
Behold  her  here,  wearing  that  necklace  rare 
Of  diamonds  fashioned  by  the  mountain  dwarfs ! 
In  this  fair  chariot,  drawn  by  cats,  she  rides 
O'er  all  the  world.     The  sixth  day  of  the  week 
To  her  is  sacred.     So  these  broideries  say. 
But  any  day,  methinks,  we'd  welcome  her 
Who  lights  within  our  hearts  the  flame  divine. 
What  think  you  ladies?     Ah,  your  blushes  deep 
Disclose  the  hidden  promptings  of  the  soul. 


"Old  Saturn,  eldest  of  the  gods  of  Rome, 
Him  have  we  last.     To  him  the  seventh  day 
Is  dedicated.     Here  we  see  him  stand, 
Holding  within  his  hand  a  pruning  knife, 
Who  first  taught  agriculture  and  the  arts 
In  ancient  Italy.     The  golden  days 
Were  his  when  plenty  filled  the  fruitful  land 
And  war  was  not — the  old  Saturnian  Age. 
Roman,  not  Scandian,  was  this  ancient  god; 


Siffurd  and  G\adr\in  8l 

But  he  so  well-beloved  was,  I  trow, 

That  men  cared  never  to  forget  his  name." 


XI 


Earl  Sigurd  ceased.     Then  thus  the  fair  Gudrun : 

"  Thanks  noble  lord.     So  erudite  thou  art 

We  maids,    sometimes,    could   scarcely   follow 

thee. 

Yet  did  we  understand,  as  women  do, 
That  what  thou  saidst  was  ever  true  and  wise. 
Thrice  valued  now  these  broideries  fair  will  be 
Since  thou  so  eloquently  hast  rehearsed 
The  story  and  significance  of  each." 


XII 


To  whom  Earl  Sigurd,  "  Nay,  my  Princess,  nay. 
Thou  must  not  flatter  me.     Yet  if  to  thee 
it  seem  that  I  have  earned,  by  my  discourse, 
Some  favour  at  thy  hands,  I'll  name  it  straight. 
What  sayst  thou  to  a  ramble  by  old  Rhine? 
Never,  since  first  I  knew  him,  have  appeared 
So  beautiful  his  waters  as  this  eve. 
See  how  they  shine,  lit  by  the  setting  sun, 
Which  soon  behind  yon  mighty  forest  wall 
Will  disappear,  bidding  adieu  to  earth. 
Soon  falls  the  summer  twilight  on  the  world — 
The  magic  summer  twilight  long  and  sweet. 
The  air  is  cool  and  pleasant.     Wilt  thou  go?" 

6 


82  Andvari's  Ring 

XIII 

And  smiled  Gudrun  and  answered,  "Aye,  my 

lord." 

And  out  across  the  meadows  went  the  twain, 
Leaving  within  the  bower  the  damsels  twelve. 
And  up  the  path  beside  the  golden  Rhine, 
They  wandered,  while  the  day  to  twilight  turned, 
And  overhead,  among  the  branches,  sang 
The  sweet-voiced  birds  their  evening  roundelays. 


XIV 


Sometimes,  in  this  too  fickle  world,  we  see 
A  youth  and  maiden  to  their  hearts'  first  choice 
Constant,  none  other  loving  from  that  hour 
When  first  they  meet  till  death  doth  part  them. 

So 

Chances  it  now  with  Sigurd  and  Gudrun. 
Love  at  first  sight:  true  love  without  a  break 
Till  death  doth  part  them.     Thus  it  is  sometimes. 


VI 

IN  THE  ODENWALD 


Now,  as  they  hunted  in  the  Odenwald 
One  day,  King  Gunter  to  Earl  Sigurd  thus: 


II 


"Dost  thou  remember  the  adventure  bold 
Whereof  I  spoke  when  first  we  met  ?       Since  then 
Naught  of  the  matter  have  my  lips  disclosed 
To  thee,  though  near  my  heart  it  lies;  but  now, 
Today,  as  through  the  forest's  depths  we  ride, 
Meseems  my  spirit  would  divulge  itself. 
List  to  my  tale  and  tell  me  then  thy  thought. 


Ill 


"Far  off,  in  the  great  northern  ocean,  lies 
A  sacred  island,  Helgoland;  of  gods 
And  goddesses  a  trysting  place;  a  haunt 
Beloved  of  Odin.     Here,  upon  a  rock, 
83 


84  Andvari's  Ring 

Circled  by  fire  (so  sing  the  ancient  skalds), 
Sleeps  Brynhild,  Odin's  daughter  fair,  erstwhile 
A  valkyr,  now,  for  some  rash,  wilful  act 
Of  disobedience  to  her  sire  divine, 
Condemned  by  him  to  everlasting  sleep. 
Yet  did  the  All-Father  this  one  daughter  love 
More  than  all  other  of  his  children.     Woe 
Filled,  when  he  banished  her,  his  mighty  heart. 
And  thus  he  tempered,  so,  at  least,  'tis  said, 
His  mandate  of  perpetual  slumber.     If 
Among  earth's  heroes  could  be  found  a  man 
Fearless  enough  and  skilful  to  essay 
Successfully  the  wall  of  fire  and  gain 
The  rock  within,  fair  Brynhild  should  be  his. 
Thus  runs  the  story,  and  for  many  a  year 
My  heart  hath  brooded  o'er  it.     Dost  thou 

think, 
Sigurd,  'tis  true,  or  but  a  poet's  dream?" 


IV 


And   Sigurd   answered:    "Sire,    methinks    'tis 

true. 

Myself  an  hundred  times  have  heard  the  tale. 
And  in  that  seaport  old,  upon  the  coast 
Of  Norroway,  where  I  my  galleys  bought, 
A  chart  I  saw  which  to  an  ancient  man 
Belonged,  who  all  his  life  upon  the  deep 
Had  dwelt,  half  trader  and  half  pirate  red. 
A  chart  of  that  low  region  where  the  Rhine 


In  tKe  Odenwald  85 

Empties,  through  many  a  mouth,  into  the  sea; 
And  Frisia's  coast,  with  sandy  isles  befringed; 
And  farther  east,  that  land  of  fen  and  fiord 
Which,  jutting  into  ocean,  northward  runs 
For  many  a  misty  league  (in  shape,  methinks, 
Like  upcurled  prow  of  some  war-galley  huge 
Breasting  the  North  Sea's  waves) ;  that  land  yclept 
By  Rome  the  Cimbric  Chersonese,  where  dwell 
Angles  and  Jutlanders  and  Saxons  bold. 
And  on  this  chart  was  plotted  Helgoland, 
The  sacred  island.     He,  himself,  ofttimes, 
Slow-sailing  by  (at  least  so,  volubly, 
Maintained  this  ancient  mariner),  had  beheld, 
Especially  at  night,  the  magic  fire 
Circling  the  lonely  cliff.     And  I  the  chart 
Purchased,  thereafter,  for  a  silver  cup — 
Part  of  the  Niblung's  Hoard — and  still  possess. 
For  ere  I  came  to  this  Burgundian  land 
My  purpose  'twas  to  explore  the  sacred  isle. 
Now,  as  thou  knowest,  except  the  lily  maid 
Gudrun,  no  goddess  fair  do  I  desire." 


At  this  the  king  smiled  slightly,  then  went  on : 
"Oft  hath  my  spirit  longed  to  make  the  attempt, 
And  win  the  child  of  Odin  for  my  bride. 
Methinks  her  imprisoned  soul  aye  beckons  me 
From  out  that  ring  of  flame.     But  I — to  leave 
My  kingdom  and  upon  that  wild  emprise 


86  Andvari's  Ring 

To  embark  ?     To  go  upon  a  quest  for  what — 
A  maid?     'Tis  passing  difficult.     Peoples  bold — 
Goths,  Vandals,  Franks — surround  me.     Far  in 

the  east, 

Beside  the  Danube,  gather  the  restless  hordes 
Of  Attila  the  Hun,  like  tempest  fierce 
Soon  to  affright  the  earth.     And  in  the  south 
Rome,  slowly  dying,  lies ;  a  lion  old 
Beset  by  hungry  wolves;  a  conqueror  once, 
Defenceless  now.     War,  everywhere  'tis  war! 
Is't  not  so,  Sigurd?     My  duty  lies  at  home; 
At  least,  to  me  so  seems  it.     To  safeguard 
His  kingdom  is  the  king's  first  task,  and  ne'er 
Should  private  joys  outweigh  the  public  weal. 
Alas,  fair  Brynhild,  daughter  of  the  gods, 
Thou  callst  to  me  in  vain!     'Tis  but  a  dream!" 


VI 


Then  Sigurd:    "Sire,   can  I  not  serve  thee? 

Well 
Thou  knowest  whate'er  I  can  I'll  gladly  do." 


VII 


And   Gunter  answered:    "Aye,   if  thou  wilt, 

thou  canst. 

Thou,  Sigurd,  thou  art  free.     Already  thou 
Hast  left  thy  father's  land  and  roamst  to  and  fro 
Unhampered.     Like  the  eagle's  thy  strong  flight 


In  tHe  Odenwald  87 

No  boundaries  knows.     Go  thou  upon  the  quest; 
I'll  trust  thee;  and  bring  back  the  valkyr  maid 
To  Burgundy.     Hagen  I'll  send  along; 
In  peril's  hour,  perchance,  thy  life  he'll  keep. 
A   tower   of  strength   thou'lt   find   him.    For 

reward 

Take  thou  the  lily  maiden  of  our  realm, 
Gudrun.     Methinks  thine  eyes  have  found  her 

fair. 

Two  weddings  will  we  have  on  thy  return — 
Brynhild  and  Gunter,  Sigurd  and  Gudrun. 
What  sayest  thou  to  my  project,  brother  mine? " 


VIII 


And  Sigurd,  loath  to  leave  Gudrun,  but  joyed 
By  this  adventure  bold  to  win  his  bride, 
Answered:     "'Tis  a  bargain.     Straightway  will 

I  sail. 
We'll  go  and  come  before  the  summer  dies." 


VII 

THE  VALKYR 


THEN  Sigurd  his  three  ships  made  ready;  oars 
And  sails  were  overhauled;  a  pennant  gay, 
Wrought  by  the  fingers  of  the  fair  Gudrun — 
A  golden  fleur-de-lis  on  field  of  blue — 
The  Dragon's  masthead  graced;  and  for  a  cruise 
The  fleet  was  victualed.     Many  a  barrel  stout 
Of  ale  and  meal  and  salted  beef  and  pork 
Beneath  the  thwarts  was  stowed;   and  water 

casks, 

Filled  from  the  sparkling  Rhine,  were  not  forgot. 
And  when  all  things  were  ready  and  the  day 
Dawned  brightly  of  departure  came  the  king, 
With  all  his  court,  down  to  the  river  bank 
To  say  good-bye.     And  at  the  last  there  stood 
Together,  in  a  little  group  apart, 
Gunter  and  Hagen,  Sigurd  and  Gudrun. 
And    Sigurd  grasped  King  Gunter's  hand  and 

then, 

Before  the  eyes  of  all,  stooping,  he  kissed, 
88 


The  ValKyr  89 

Upon  her  dewy  lips,  the  sweet  Gudrun — 
Betrothed  lovers'  parting  kiss — a  draught] 
Wherein,  in  equal  quantities,  are  mixed 
Sweetness  and  sorrow,  bitternes ;  and  bliss. 
Then  Sigurd  straightway  sought  his  dragon  ship, 
And  with  him  went  the  dark  Burgundian  knight, 
Hagen,  and  on  the  after-deck  they  stood 
Together,  waving  farewells  to  the  shore. 
And  when,  beyond  her  ken,  the  last  dim  sail 
Had  vanished,  o'er  the  spirit  of  Gudrun 
Black  grief  descended  and,  all  desolate, — 
Her  life  a  world  without  its  sun — she  wept. 


II 


Then  down  the  winding  Rhine  the  little  fleet, 
Past    lands  ^of  friends  and    foemen,   made  its 

way; 

And,  reaching  open  sea,  the  Frisian  coast — 
Low-lying,  fringed  with  many  a  sandy  isle- 
Skirted  (as  by  the  ancient  trader's  chart 
Directed)  and  then  left  the  land  behind, 
Northward  and  eastward  steering,  till  at  last, 
Out  of  the  level  ocean  Sigurd  saw 
The  red  cliffs  of  the  sacred  island  rise. 
And  on  the  island's  top  a  ring  of  flame 
Burned,  by  the  hand  of  Odin  lit,  and  here, 
Within  that  fiery  ring,  so  sang  the  skald, 
Upon  a  rock,  the  valkyr,  Brynhild,  slept. 
And  Sigurd  on  the  sandy  spit  below 


go  Andvari's  Ring 

His  galleys  beached  and  then,   ere  nightfall, 

bade 
His  mariners  their  evening  meal  prepare. 


in 


Now  when  the  early  summer  sun  its  beams 
Cast  o'er  the  sea  and  dyed  to  deeper  red 
The  ruddy  cliffs  of  Helgoland  uprose 
Sigurd  and  Hagen  and,  upon  the  sands 
Leaving  the  busy,  bustling  crews,  essayed 
The  steep  ascent  to  Brynhild's  rocky  bower. 
Sheer  from  the  sea  on  every  side  upsprang 
This  island  height,  but  Sigurd  found  a  path, 
Unseen  at  first,  which,  starting  from  the  beach, 
In  many  a  zigzag,  to  the  summit  clomb ; 
And  up  this  path  he,  leading,  made  his  way. 
But  Hagen,  heavy  and  of  foot  unsure, 
Though  long  he  strove,  at  last,  from  very  fear 
Of  loss  of  limb  or  life,  gave  up  the  attempt, 
And  all  chagrined,  sat  down  upon  the  sand. 


IV 


Now  as  he  neared  the  summit  a  grey  cloud 
Enveloped  Sigurd  and  with  slower  steps 
He  clambered  till,  all  suddenly,  he  beheld, 
Barring  his  pathway,  lurid  in  the  mist, 
The  wall  of  fire  which  girt  the  valkyr  maid. 
And  as  he  for  a  moment  paused  a  shape 


The  ValKyr  91 

Unearthly  close  beside  him  he  perceived; 
A  shape  seen  once  before  by  him,  what  time, 
In  the  deep  forest,  Fafnir's  lair  he  sought; 
A  shape  one-eyed  and  huge,  with  great  slouched 

hat 

Topping  its  golden  locks,  and  a  blue  cloak 
Covering  its  shoulders.     Odin  'twas,  in  truth: 
Odin,  All-Father,  watching  o'er  his  child. 
Thus  then  the  god:     "  Whither  away,  my  lad? 
What  seekst  thou  on  this  hilltop? "     And  to  him 
Sigurd  replied:     "The  valkyr  maid  I  seek, 
Brynhild,  whom  on  this  rocky  island-height, 
Girt  by  a  wall  of  living  fire,  thy  hand 
Hath  prisoned ! "     Then  the  god  Valhallan  thus : 
"Woe — woe  she'll  bring  thee,  Sigurd.     Would 

that  I 

Power  had  to  stop  thee,  but  the  mystic  Norns 
Have  willed  it,  and  no  man  escapes  his  fate. 
Woe  brings  the  valkyr  maiden — woe  and  death ! " 
But  Sigurd:     "Unto  Gunter  have  I  pledged 
My  word.     I've  sworn  to  fetch   the  maiden 

back." 

Then  Odin :     ' '  Aye,  the  hour  foretold  hath  come. 
'Tis  written  in  the  book  of  Fate  that  thou, 
And  thou  alone,  shouldst  set  the  maiden  free. 
Go  on,  my     lad.     Thy  promise  keep.     What 

comes 

Must  come.     Yon  wall  of  magic  fire  which  lifts 
So  terribly  its  forked  crest  and  bars 
Against  all  other  men  this  mountain  top 


92  Andvari's  Ring 

Thee  cannot  harm.  Fear  not,  my  lad.  Fare 
well!" 

With  that  he  vanished.     Then  into  the  flame 

Plunged  Sigurd,  sword  in  hand,  and  from  the 
flame 

Issued,  upon  the  other  side,  unscathed. 


Now  when  into  that  silent  spot — that  isle 
By  fiery  billows  girt — had  Sigurd  come 
His  eyes  beheld,  within  a  craggy  niche, 
O'er  which  an  ancient  pine-tree  sentry  stood, 
The  figure  of  the  valkyr  maiden  couched 
Upon  a  moss-grown  rock.     Closed  were  her  eyes 
As  if  in  sleep;  her  tresses  beautiful 
From  underneath  her  winged  helmet  fled 
Adown  the  mossy  pillow;  her  long  shield 
Covered  her  body;  and  her  valkyr  spear 
Beside  her  rested.     Motionless  she  lay 
As  in  some  stately  mausoleum  lies 
A  sculptured  form  of  marble.     Thus,  for  years 
Unnumbered  had  she  slept,  by  Odin's  power 
Preserved  from  perils  of  the  earth  and  air — 
Fair  daughter  of  the  father  of  the  gods. 
And  Sigurd,  lifting  up  the  shield,  beheld 
A  maiden-form  in  snow-white  samite  gowned, 
But  bodiced  in  a  warrior's  byrnie  bright. 
And,  for  a  time,  all  motionless  he  stood, 
Gazing  upon  the  sight,  and  in  his  mind 


The  ValKyr  93 

What  next  to  do  revolving.     Then  beside 
The  moss-grown  rock  falling  upon  one  knee — 
E'en  as  'twas  written  in  the  book  of  Fate — 
He  kissed  the  cold  lips  of  the  valkyr  maid. 


VI 


As,  at  the  kiss  of  spring-time,  open  wide 
The  violet's  eyes,  so  now,  at  Sigurd's  kiss, 
Opened  the  blue  eyes  of  the  valkyr  maid : 
And  as,  in  April,  through  all  nature  runs 
New  life  and  warmth,  and  sleeping  earth  awakes, 
So  now,  through  Brynhild's  sleeping  form  new  life 
Surged  warm  and,  like  sweet  April,  she  awoke. 


VII 


4 '  Who  art  thou  that  above  me  bendest  ?     Naught 
Remember  I  since  to  this  lonely  isle 
My  father  Odin  brought  me,  and  with  fire 
Begirt  the  rocky  couch  whereon  I  lay. 
Who    art   thou?    And    whence    comest   thou? 
Answer  me!" 


VIII 


Thus  spake  the  valkyr  maiden;  and  to  her 
Sigurd  replied :     "  My  name  is  Sigurd.     Thee 
I  sought  that  I  might  bear  thee  to  the  land 
Of  the  Burgundians.     Gunter  waits  thee  there. 
A  noble  king  doth  crave  thee  for  his  bride." 


94  Andvari's  Ring 

IX 

"And  hast  thou,  then,  a  bride  already?"     Thus 
Brynhild.     And  Sigurd  answered:     "Nay,  fair 

maid, 

No  bride  have  I.     Yet  do  I  hope,  ere  long, 
A  bride  to  claim.     When  thou  dost  Gunter  wed, 
On  that  same  day  weds  Gunter's  sister  me: 
Gudrun,  the  lily  maid  of  Burgundy." 


This  hearing,  from  her  couch  the  valkyr  rose 
And,  leaving  spear  and  shield  behind  her,  passed 
From  out  the  grotto — silent — pale — and  stood 
A  little  space  away.     Then  thus  she  spoke: 

XI 

' '  And  hath  it  come  to  this  ?     Alas !    Alas ! 
Must  I,  a  daughter  of  the  mighty  gods, 
Be  wedded  to  this  mortal  who,  although 
A  king  he  calls  himself,  is  but  a  churl 
To  me?     O,  father  Odin,  was  my  fault 
So  grievous?     Have  I  not  enough  atoned? 
My  punishment  is  more  than  I  can  bear!" 

XII 

So  saying,  in  her  hands  she  bowed  her  head, 
Crowned  by  the  winged  helmet,  and  with  tears 
Bitter  bewailed  her  miserable  lot. 


The  ValKyr  95 

XIII 

Then  Sigurd  gently  to  the  maiden  spoke : 
"Weep  not,  sweet  lady.     'Tis  the  way  of  life. 
What  man  is  free?     What  woman?    All   are 

slaves. 

Are  not  the  mighty  gods,  e'en  like  ourselves, 
Bound  by  the  chains  of  Fate?     In  Odin's  heart 
Reigns  not  deep  ceaseless  sorrow?     Aye,   my 

girl. 

If  he,  thy  father,  to  this  lot  consigned 
His  best-beloved  daughter  'twas  because 
Unto  his  eyes  no  other  way  appeared. 
Brynhild,  weep  not,  but  drink  the  cup  which 

Fate 

Sets  to  thy  lips  and,  though  it  be  bitter,  smile 
And  make  the  most  of  life.     Unto  us  all, 
Both  gods  and  men,  'tis  mystery.     Come,  sweet 

maid. 

Far  from  this  lonely  mountain  summit,  down 
Into  the  world,  we'll  go,  and  thou,  once  more, 
Shalt  live,  e'en  though  within  a  lowlier  sphere 
Confined.     Behold,  the  magic  fire  is  dead 
Which  erstwhile  girt  thee  round,  and  from  this 

cliff 

Thine  eyes  can  see  my  galleys  on  the  beach. 
Soon  in  the  deep  blue  water  will  they  ride 
Once  more,  as  toward  the  fair  Burgundian  shores 
Brynhild  they  bear.     And  in  that  alien  land, 
Whate'er  betide  thee,  thy  unfaltering  friend, 


96  .Andvari's  Ring 

True  as  the  magnet  to  the  steel,  I'll  be. 
Come,  Brynhild,  come.     Forget  thy  valkyr  life. 
Or,  rather,  forget  not,  but  let  it  be 
A  golden  memory  which,  like  a  fair  lamp, 
Shall  light  thy  soul  in  many  a  dreary  hour. 
And  in  that  future  vast  toward  which  we  move — 
Of  which,  e'en  now,  we  are  a  part — perchance 
Thou  to  those  higher  regions  shalt  return, 
And  of  that  freer  life  once  more  partake; — 
A  valkyr,  bearing  to  Valhalla's  halls, 
With  tender,  ministering  hands,  the  souls 
Of  heroes  in  their  earthly  fight  o'erwhelmed." 

XIV 

"Like  Bragi  dost  thou  speak;  like  Bragi,  god 
Of  eloquence  and  poetry  and  song. 
Methinks,  some  day,  thou  wilt  be  one  of  those 
Who  sit  around  my  father  Odin's  board." 

xv 

Thus  Brynhild;  and  to  her  Sigurd  replied: 
"Perchance,  then,  in  that  life  to  come,  amidst 
Valhalla's  glories,  once  more  will  we  meet. 
But,  whatsoe'er  the  future  brings,  thy  path 
Today  leads  toward  the  Rhine.     Is  it  not  so? 
Believe  me,  Brynhild,  there's  no  other  way." 

XVI 

She  bowed  assent;  and  down  the  ruddy  cliffs, 
Each  ever  and  anon  the  other's  hand 


TKe  ValKyr  97 

Clasping,  they  went;  he  out  into  the  world 
Unknown  that  haughty  spirit  leading,  once 
A  valkyr,  now  a  woman.     And  within 
The  cabin  of  the  Dragon  (which,  betimes, 
E'en  by  Gudrun's  deft  hands,  had  been  prepared 
For  this  fair  guest,  with  tapestries  all  hung, 
And  stored  with  gowns  and  gems  such  as  befit 
A  maiden's  bower)  he  placed  her,  and  himself 
And  Hrgen  on  the  after-deck  above, 
Out  where  the  winds  and  waters  sang,  abode. 

XVII 

Then  o'er  the  deep  the  Dragon  led  the  way, 
The  Wolf  and  Bear  close  following,  and  astern — 
Bereft  henceforward  of  their  crown  of  fire — 
Faded  the  ruddy  cliffs  of  Helgoland. 


VIII 
SIGURD    ANDGUNTER 


"Now  comes  once  more  the  ancient  feast  of 

Yule, 

Now  comes  once  more  that  joyous  festival 
Which  men,  from  immemorial  time,  have  held 
Supreme,  above  all  others  taking  rank, 
And  justly,  so  it  ever  seemed  to  me. 
For  what  is  it  we  celebrate?     Is't  not 
A  heavenly  circumstance  of  import  high 
All  slighter  things  transcending?     Is  it  not 
The  time  when  the  great  Sun,  the  wheel  of  fire, 
The  source  of  light  and  life  and  all  that  is, 
The  golden  symbol  of  All-Father's  eye, 
Ceases  henceforward  to  withdraw  himself 
(Each  daily  visit  briefer  than  the  last) 
And,  turning  in  his  course,  all  reconciled, 
Comes   back   to   earth   with   ever-lengthening 

strides : — 
With   outstretched   arms   and   kindly-beaming 

face 

98 


Sigfurd  and  Gxinter  99 

Comes  back  once  more  to  earth,  in  darkness 

wrapt 

Perpetual  but  for  him;  darkness  like  that 
Which  in  the  shadowy  halls  of  Hela  reigns — 
Pale  goddess  sub  terrene,  whose  realms  receive 
The  souls  of  the  unrighteous  after  death? 
Aye,  this  it  is  we  celebrate;  this  hour 
Supreme,  with  brightest  consequences  fraught. 
A  season  for  rejoicing,  then,  is  Yule; 
A  season,  therefore,  so  it  seems  to  me, 
Well-fitted   for    our   nuptials.      What   thinkst 

thou?" 

s 

II 

Thus  Gunter,  King  of  the  Burgundians,  spoke 
To  Sigurd  as,  within  a  spacious  room 
Of  that  old  Roman  palace  by  the  Rhine, 
Beside  a  fire  of  mighty  logs,  they  stood. 

in 

And  Sigurd  answered :     '  *  Sire,  betrothed  am  I 
To  thy  fair  sister  and,  like  lovers  all, 
Too  soon  for  me  the  happy  wedding  day , 
E'en  though  it  were  tomorrow,  cannot  come." 

IV 

To  whom  then  Gunter  thus,  whose  cloudy  brow 
Bespoke  the  troubled  soul  which  dwelt  within : 


ioo  Andvari's  Ring 

"Like  thine  is  my  desire,  and  'twas  my  plan 
To  celebrate  our  nuptials,  thine  and  mine, 
Close-following  the  return  from  Helgoland. 
But  ever  more  the  haughty  valkyr  maid, 
With  this  and  that  excuse,  hath  put  me  off, 
Till  '  nay, '  at  last,  no  longer  could  she  speak, 
And  hath  at  Yule-tide  promised  to  be  mine. 
Methinks,  sometimes,  she  loves  me  not;  and  yet 
Her  deeply  do  I  love.     My  brightest  dreams 
Of  what  she'd  be,  compared  with  what  she  is, 
Were  like  the  frescoed  figure  on  the  wall 
Matched  with  the  beauty  of  the  living  maid; 
And  for  the  hour  which  makes  us  one  I  long. 
And  yet,  if  she  doth  love  me  not,  what  good? 
'Tis  but  the  shadow  that  I  clasp;  'tis  but 
The  garment  of  the  soul,  however  fair, 
That  mine  becomes;  the  substance  hath  escaped. 
Would  that  her  valkyr  spirit  I  could  win, 
And  merge  her  life  with  mine!     But,  ah,  to  love 
Brings  not  love  in  return,  and  marble-cold 
Meseems  she  stands — far,  far  beyond  my  reach. 
Alas,  the  poorest  swain  who  ploughs  the  earth, 
Or  sails  the  sea,  and  holds  some  woman's  heart 
All,  all  his  own,  is  happier  far  than  I." 


He  ceased  and  gazing  out  upon  the  Rhine 

Remained,  all  silent,  for  a  little  space, 

Then  spoke  again :     "  Nathless  our  wedding  day 


Sigurd  and  Gxmter  101 

We'll  celebrate,  my  Sigurd,  thou  and  I: 
Perchance  with  better  knowledge  of  her  spouse 
Brynhild  may  love  me  better.     As  for  thee 
Already  art  thou  sun  and  moon  and  stars 
And     heaven's     transcendent     brightness     to 
Gudrun." 


IX 

YULE-TIDE  AT   THE  COURT   OF   KING 

GUNTER 


(Including  the  Song  of  Olaf  the  Red) 

YULE-TIDE  !  '  And  in  King  Gunter's  palace  reigns 
Revelry  such  as  ne'er  before  was  seen, 
By  oldest  greybeard,  in  all  Burgundy! 
For  is  it  not  the  hour  auspicious,  set 
E'en  by  the  merry-hearted  king  himself, 
When  here  have  met,  from  far  and  near,  the 

guests 

To  celebrate,  with  feasting  and  with  song, 
After  the  manner  of  the  olden  time, 
The  double  wedding?     Is  it  not  the  hour 
Blest  by  the  presence  of  all-knowing  Var, 
Goddess  of  marriage,  who  to  lovers'  vows 
Listens  attentive,  and  who  broken  troth 
Doth  ever  punish?     Is  it  not  the  hour 
Dedicate  not  alone  to  love's  delights 
But  also  to  the  gaieties  of  Yule — 
Mad,  merry  Yule?     Let  laughter  unconfmcd 
Reign,  therefore,  and  illimitable  joy! 

102 


Yule-tide  at  Gxinter's  Court    103 

II 

Now  are  the  guests  all  gathered  in  the  hall, 

Which  almost  like  the  greenwood  doth  appear, 

With  holly  hung  and  sacred  mistletoe. 

Now  ready  are  the  harpers  with  their  harps, 

And  lighted  are  the  mighty  logs  of  Yule. 

Now,  wreathed  in  green,  an  apple  in  his  mouth, 

As  ancient  custom  bids,  and  borne  aloft 

By  lackeys  tall,  the  smoking  Boar's  Head  comes. 


Ill 


Upon  the  dais,  with  the  merry  court 
To  right  and  left,  and  guests  resplendent,  sat 
Gunter  and  Brynhild,  Sigurd  and  Gudrun. 
Brightly  upon  the  finger  of  each  bride 
Sparkled  the  wedding-ring;  on  Brynhild's  brow, 
Marking  before  the  world  her  queenly  state, 
Glittered  a  golden  crown  with  diamonds  set; 
And  round  the   white  neck  of  Gudrun,  the  gift 
Of  Sigurd,  hung  a  string  of  lustrous  pearls, 
Precious  beyond  compare,  chief  ornament 
Of  the  dark  Niblung's  Hoard.     As  mariner 
Watches,  by  night,  the  Cynosure,  his  eyes 
Ever  to  it  returning,  so  all  eyes 
In  that  great  hall  the  bridal-party  watched; 
Ever  returning,  irresistibly 
Drawn  from  all  other  things  of  lesser  note, 
To  dwell  upon  that  constellation  bright. 


IO4  Andvari's 


IV 

Below,  at  the  great  table,  filled  with  cheer, 
Which  ran  the  whole  length  of  the  mighty  hall 
From  door  to  dais,  Gunter's  men-at-arms 
Feasted  with  merry  din;  and  them  among, 
Each  tar  between  two  spearmen,  that  the  guest 
Might  want  for  nothing,  Sigurd's  vikings  sat. 
E'en  thus,  upon  that  memorable  night 
When  first  they  met,  six  months  ago,  they  sat, 
In  golden  summer  when  the  days  were  long. 
And  round  and  round  the  mighty  drinking-horns 
Passed  with  the  nut-brown  ale  or  sparkling  mead, 
Passed,  with  their  precious  freight,  from  lip  to 

lip, 

Ever  to  be  replenished  and  repass, 
Filled  from  great  casks  within  the  cellar  stored. 
And  Norseman  and  Burgundian  drank  "Was- 

hael!" 

Each  to  the  other,  and  ere  the  bearded  lips 
Were  dry,  "Skoel  to  the  viking!"  and  again 
"Prosit!"  and  mellow  friendship  ruled  the  hour, 
For  Bacchus  doth  make  brothers  of  us  all. 
And  in  the  middle  of  the  wassail,  lo! 
Twelve  harpers  good,  beside  the  dais  stair 
Stationed,  where  all  could  hear  their  symphonies, 
Struck  string  and,  to  their  music  keeping  step, 
Entered  King  Momus,  from  a  hidden  door 
Issuing  upon  the  hall—  Lord  of  Misrule- 
Followed  apace  by  all  his  motley  crew. 


"Y\ile-tide  at  Gxinter's  Court    105 

And  some — like  Momus,  sovereign  lord,  him 
self— 
Were    masked    and    others    like    the    foolish 

clown 

Painted  who  to  this  day,  at  merry  Yule, 
Disports  with  columbine  and  harlequin. 
And  round  and  round  the  mighty  hall  they 

went, 

As  mummers  will,  with  all  extravagance; 
These  marching  with  a  mock  solemnity, 
Those — men  and  maidens  in  apparel  gay — 
Their  skill  terpsichorean  setting  forth 
In  pantomimic  dance  fantastical, 
And  others  yet  to  wake  the  mirthful  laugh 
Seeking  with  antics  of  the  primal  fool — 
Horse-play  and  somersaults,  coarse  mimicry. 
Tooting  of  horns  and  many  another  trick 
Ancient  as  is  the  zany's  ancient  art. 
And  when,  at  last,  it  seemed  that  long  enough 
Had  folly  and  unreason  gross  held  sway, 
Gunter  a  signal  gave,  and  the  twelve  skalds 
Their  music  ceased.     And  as  a  fair  jet  d'eau, 
Rising  from  sculptured  fountain  high  in  air, 
Suddenly  falls  when  cut  off  is  the  stream, 
So,  suddenly,  when  the  music  ended,  ceased 
The  hurly-burly  in  King  Gunter fs  hall. 
And  at  the  oaken  board  old  Momus  found 
A  vacant  place,  and  of  his  mummers  some 
Beside  him  perched  and  others  round  about 
Or  sat  or  lay  upon  the  rush-strewn  floor. 


106  Andvari's  Ring; 


Then,  at  the  bidding  of  the  king,  slept  forth, 
"With  harp  in  hand,   from  out  the  throng  of 

skalds, 

An  ancient  bard,  Olaf  the  Red  yclept, 
Who  had  with  Sigurd  from  the  Northland  come. 
White  were  his  locks  as  those  of  Hoder  old, 
Though  ruddy  as  the  beard  of  Thor  they'd  been 
In  younger  days,  when  he  his  surname  got. 
Noble  his  bearing.     One  of  those  was  he 
Who  voice  the  passions  of  the  human  heart, 
Or  paint  the  deeds  of  the  heroic  past. 
One  of  that  gifted  company  (although 
Naught  but  a  lowly  neophyte)  to  which 
Belong  great  Homer  and  the  Mantuan  bard 
Illustrious,  high  priests  of  the  epic  muse. 
Oft  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy's  fleet 
His  battle  song  he'd  sung,  or  at  the  feasts 
Of  kings  chanted  adventures  wild  and  weird. 
Of  gods  and  goddesses  tonight  he  sang, 
And  chiefly  of  that  valiant  deity 
Who  ever  with  the  mountain  giants  fought — 
Bluff  Thor,  the  idol  of  all  Scandian  hearts. 

(The  Song  of  Olaf  the  Red) 

VI 

Thus  ran  his  song.     Once  did  the  green-haired 

god 
Who  dwells  within  the  illimitable  deep, 


"Yxile-tide  at  Center's  Coxirt    107 


ir,  prepare  a  banquet  for  the  gods 
Whose  home  is  highest  heaven;  and  to  the  halls 
Of  ocean  came,  a  glorious  company, 
Upon  the  day  appointed  for  the  event, 
The  mighty  ones  of  Asgard.     Round  the  board 
Of  ^Egir  now  they  sit,  those  peerless  ones, 
Drinking  the  nut-brown  ale  and  foaming  mead. 
Behold,  upon  the  right  hand  of  the  host, 
Odin  enthroned,  father  of  gods  and  men, 
Ruler  of  heaven  and  earth,  whose  will  is  law 
Through  all  the  vast  expanse  save  when  athwart 
The  purposes  it  runs  of  the  pale  Norns, 
The  sisters  three  inscrutable  who  sit 
Beside  the  ash-tree  Ygdrasil  and  hold 
Within  their  hands  the  thread  of  every  life: 
The  sisters  three  of  Fate  unchangeable  — 
The  Past,  the  Present  and  the  Future—  Urd, 
Verdandi,  Skuld  —  them  —  them  alone  he  dreads; 
The  mystic  ones  who  sit  above  the  gods, 
And  the  beginning  and  the  end  behold 
Of  all  created  things.     Pleasure  today 
Lights  the  All-Father's  visage,  where  doth  dwell 
Sadness  too  often,  sadness  at  the  lot 
Of  human  kind.     Gracious  his  mien  divine, 
As  in  the  halls  of  ^Egir  now  he  sits, 
Amongst  the  gods  and  goddesses,  his  mead 
Nectarean  drinking,  and  ever  and  anon 
Feeding  with  morsels  from  the  banquet  board 
His  ravens  twain,  Hugin  and  Munin,  who 
Him  tidings  bring  from  earth's  remotest  parts, 


io8  Andvari's  Ring 

Or  bear  his  mandate  to  contending  hosts. 
Upon  the  high  back  of  their  master's  chair 
Now  rest  these  sable  messengers,  while  crouch 
About  the  monarch's  feet,  like  faithful  dogs, 
The  two  grey  wolves  who  ever  him  attend. 
Them  likewise  doth  he  feed  with  morsels  rare. 


VII 


Beside  the  wise  All-Father  Frigga  sits, 
His  spouse  and  queen,  goddess  of  wedded  love, 
Of  spotless  chastity,  and  motherhood, 
And  all  the  sacred  virtues  of  the  home. 
Stern  guardian  of  the  marriage  bond  is  she, 
And  oft  her  voice  upbraiding  Odin  hears, 
For  hard  it  is  Frigga  to  always  please. 
Nathless  no  hypocrite  is  Odin's  queen. 
A  virtuous  wife  she  dwells  beside  her  lord, 
And  in  her  life  exemplifies  her  words. 


VIII 


Next  to  his  mother  Frigga  now  behold 
Bright  Balder;  he  of  all  the  mighty  gods 
The  best-beloved  and  most  beautiful. 
God  of  the  Sun,  lord  of  the  summer-time, 
The  source  of  light  and  life  and  all  things  fair, 
Who  doth  not  Balder  love?     In  all  this  world, 
So  sang  the  ancient  skalds,  naught  could  be 
found, 


Y-ule-tide  at  Gvinter's  Ccmrt    109 

Nor  man,  nor  beast,  nor  bird,  nor  stock,  nor 

stone, 
That  loved  not  Balder:  naught  save  one  small 

shrub, 

The  mistletoe  yclept;  and  with  a  twig 
From  this  ill-fated  plant,  thrown  by  the  hand 
Of  Hoder  blind  (whom  Loki's  wicked  spleen 
Trickt  to  the  deed)  was  beauteous  Balder  slain. 
Yet  doth  he  rise  each  year  from  Hela  's  gloom, 
Renewed,  immortal,  glorious  as  of  old, 
God  of  the  summer  sunshine  evermore. 
Close  by  his  side  the  gentle  Nanna  sits, 
His  faithful  spouse  who,  when  bright  Balder 

died, 

Herself — who  did  subsist  upon  his  love — 
Perished  of  sorrow  inconsolable. 
Yet  like  her  lord  from  Hela  doth  she  rise, 
What  time  the  golden  Spring  returns  to  earth, 
Holp  from  those  gloomy  depths  by  his  strong 

arm. 


IX 


Tyr  next  we  see,  the  one-armed  god  of  war, 
His  missing  limb  by  the  fierce  Fenris  wolf 
Torn  from  his  body.     For  when  the  Asgard 

gods 

Sought  to  securely  bind  the  Fenris  Wolf 
(Which  is  a  symbol  of  devouring  fire, 
All-devastating,  uncontrollable) — 


no  Andvari's  Ring' 

Ne'er  would  he  stand  at  rest  unless  a  god, 
As  pledge  of  fair  intent,  would  place  his  arm 
Betwixt  the  creature's  jaws.     This  then  did  Tyr. 
But  when  the  wolf,  betrayed  and  bound  at  last, 
His  fate  perceived  he,  in  revengeful  rage, 
Tyr's  arm  tore  off  below  the  elbow  joint. 
Thus  Tyr,  to  save  the  world,  gave  up  his  arm, 
And,  if  'twere  needful,  would  have  given  his  life, 
As  ever  have  the  brave,  or  gods  or  men, 
Done,  without  question,  for  the  common- weal. 


Here  likewise  Loki  sits,  the  god  perverse, 
The  mischief-maker  sly,  the  evil  one. 
Scoffer  at  all  things  by  the  gods  held  good, 
Father  of  lies,  of  wickedness  the  source. 
If  trouble  came  'twas  ever  Loki's  fault, 
If  discord  rose  false  Loki  was  the  cause. 
Evil  to  him  seemed  good,  and  what  the  gods 
Eschewed  as  wicked  aye  was  his  delight, 
So  full  of  all  perverseness  was  his  heart. 
Him  did  the  gods  of  Asgard  for  a  while 
Suffer  to  roam  at  will  through  earth  and  heaven, 
But  came  a  time  when  e'en  the  All-Father  wise 
Lost  patience  with  his  son  and  to  a  rock 
Fast  chained  him,  with  a  viper  overhead, 
Which  ever  dropt  its  poison  on  his  breast. 
But  who  so  wicked  that  no  woman's  heart 
He  hath  to  love  him?     None — nor  man  nor  god. 


"Yxile-tide  at  Center's  Coxirt    in 

And  to  the  rock  with  Loki  went  his  wife 
Siguna,  and  beside  him  ever  sits, 
Catching  the  viper's  poison  in  a  cup, 
Ere  on  her  husband's  naked  breast  it  falls. 


And  here,  a  deity  benign,  sits  Frey, 

To  whom  the  Scandian  farmer  every  prays 

For  plenteous   crops;   who  rain   and   sunshine 

sends, 

Each  as  'tis  needed,  and  propitious  airs, 
And  at  the  last  a  harvest  bountiful. 
The  son  of  Niord,  an  ancient  ocean  god, 
Who  ruled  the  coasts  as  JEgir  ruled  the  deep, 
Was  Frey,  and  fair  his  sister  as  himself, 
Freya,  aye  fairer,  for  in  heaven  or  earth 
What  lovelier  thing  than  Freya  doth  exist, 
Goddess  of  youth  and  beauty  and  of  love? 
Behold  them  sitting  now  in  ^Egir's  hall, 
Freya  and  Frey,  the  children  beautiful 
Whom  Niord  unto  the  gods  of  Asgard  gave ! 
As  in  a  brooch  a  pearl  of  ocean  shines 
Among  a  score  of  gems  (though  past  all  price 
These  others  be,  yet  none  is  like  the  pearl 
In  lustre  soft  and  milk-white  loveliness) 
So  doth  this  daughter  of  the  ocean  god, 
This  foam-sprung  Aphrodite  of  the  North, 
Among  the  mighty  ones  of  Asgard  shine, 
Forever  young,  forever  beautiful. 


112  Andvari's  Ring 

XII 

And  here,  long-bearded,  like  the  bard  who  tells 
This  tale  tonight  in  Gunter's  palace,  sits 
Bragi,  of  song  and  eloquence  the  god. 
A  wondrous  harp  within  his  hand  he  holds, 
And  ofttimes  to  the  gods  and  goddesses 
He  sings,  and  of  all  skalds  the  best  is  he. 
Next  to  him  sits  his  spouse,  Iduna  fair, 
She  who  the  apples  of  immortal  life 
Doth  keep.     For  when  the  gods  and  goddesses 
Aweary  are,  and  feel  the  hand  of  Time 
Bearing  upon  them,  straightway  do  they  seek 
That  garden  where  Iduna's  apples  grow, 
Which  having  eaten,  youth  returns  again. 
So  wondrous  potent  is  the  golden  fruit. 

XIII 

Here  likewise  Vidar  sits,  the  silent  one, 
Who  doth  the  deep  primeval  forest  love. 
Seldom  among  the  gods  to  banquet  board 
He  comes,  but  in  the  impenetrable  wood 
Abides  by  preference;  and  when  in  the  halls 
Of  Asgard,  or  on  Ida's  flowery  plain, 
At  times,  he  shows,  always  an  air  he  hath 
Distrait,  as  though  within  the  silent  wood, 
Rather  than  in  the  glittering  palaces 
Among  the  Asas  bright,  he  longed  to  be. 
But  ^Egir  doth  he  love,  and  to  the  feast 


Yxile-tide  at  Gxinter's  Court    113 

Of  ocean's  god  hath  come — a  happy  guest — 
And  in  his  rightful  place  he  sits  today. 

XIV 

And  ancient  Hoenir  likewise  here  doth  sit, 
And  Vali  strong,  and  wise  Forseti,  god 
Of  justice,  who  all  rulers  doth  inspire 
That  seek  his  aid;  lies  cannot  them  deceive, 
But  even-handed  justice  they  dispense; 
And  Heimdal,  keeper  of  the  rainbow  bridge 
O'er  which  the  gods  and  goddesses  to  earth 
Descend  and,  when  their  missions  are  fulfilled,  . 
Ascend,  a  bright  procession,  to  the  skies; 
And  Hoder  blind,  that  god  unfortunate 
Who,  trickt  by  Loki's  mischief-making  guile, 
The  beauteous  Balder  slew;  and  Hermod  swift, 
Who  to  the  gloomy  gates  of  Hela's  realm 
Descended,  and  that  goddess  importuned, 
For  many  days,  bright  Balder  to  release, 
But  no — all  unavailing  was  his  quest; 
And  Rinda,  goddess  of  the  wintry  earth; 
And  Uller,  bowman  famous,  who  to  hunt 
On  snow-shoes  o'er  the  white  snow-surface  loves. 
These  and  yet  other  gods  and  goddesses 
Of  rank  distinguished,  now  within  the  halls 
Of  JEgir  sit — a  glorious  company. 

xv 

Last  but  not  least,  here  sits  the  Thunder-God, 
Impetuous,  fierce,  yet  kind  of  heart  withal; 


114  Andvari's  Ring 

The  hero  of  a  hundred  cherished  tales 
Told  by  the  saga-man  in  smoky  hall, 
Or  chanted  by  the  bard  at  banquet  board, 
Or  crooned  by  Norseland  mother  to  her  child; 
Here  now  he  sits  who  with  the  giants  huge 
Doth  ever  love  to  fight,  and  goblins  fierce; 
Red-bearded  Thor,  of  all  the  many  sons 
Of  Odin,  nearest  to  the  Norseman's  heart. 


XVI 


Now  in  the  middle  of  the  mighty  feast, 
As  round  and  round  the  foaming  horns  of  ale 
Were  passing,  and  in  every  heart  joy  reigned, 
The  green-haired  ^Egir  thus  addressed  his  guests: 

XVII 

"  Vast  are  my  stores  of  mead  and  ale  and  none 
Has  ever  from  my  table  thirsty  gone, 
But  I  of  something  better  far  have  heard 
Than  these  great  horns  which,  fix  it  as  we  may, 
Ever  and  ever  must  replenished  be. 
Something  it  is,  in  truth,  most  wonderful, 
Not  understandable  the  thing  by  me, 
And  yet  assured  am  I  it  doth  exist." 

XVIII 

He  paused  a  moment;  on  the  ancient  god 
All  eyes  were  turned ;jthen  slowly  he  went  on. 


Yule-tide  at  Gunter's  Court    115 

XIX 

"What  say  ye,  Asas,  to  a  wondrous  cup, 
Which  none  can  drain,  made  by  the  cunning 

dwarfs 

Who  dwell  within  the  bowels  of  the  earth? 
A  vessel  from  whose  depths  the  fragrant  ale 
Forever  issues,  foaming  like  a  force? 
A  magic  goblet  which  nor  man  nor  god 
Nor  mountain  giant  horrible  and  huge 
Can  empty,  though  from  eve  to  morn  he  drink, 
And  then  again  from  morn  till  dusky  eve? 
What  say  ye,  Asas,  to  a  cup  like  this?" 

xx 

His  emerald  locks  the  King  of  Ocean  shook, 
Smiled  to  himself  and  then  again  went  on: 

XXI 

"Far  in  the  North  'tis  held,  this  magic  cup. 
And  would  ye  know,  ye  gods  and  goddesses, 
Who  dwell  in  heaven,  and  tread  the  flowery 

plains 

Of  Ida,  and  upon  the  rainbow  bridge 
Descend,  a  bright  procession,  or  ascend, 
And  drink  the  mead  of  Odin,  would  ye  know 
What  churl  profane  hath  gotten  this  rare  prize? 
Old  Skrymer,  of  the  mountain  giants  king! 
By  him  and  them  and  all  their  kin  'tis  used — 


Ii6  Andvari's  Ring 

A  jewel  bright  within  the  snouts  of  swine. 

By  heavens !    Old  though  I  be,  I've  often  thought 

Myself  would  some  day  strive,  by  craft  or  force, 

To  get  possession  of  this  wondrous  cup. 

What  think  ye,  Asas?     'Twere  a  glorious  deed." 

v 

XXII 

Intently  listened  all.     Then  from  his  seat 
Uprose  the  Thunder-God — red-bearded  Thor — 
And  thus,  with  many  a  fiery  gesture,  spake: 

XXIII 

"  To  me  belongs  this  deed.     To  me  who  aye 
Have  fought  with  giants  and  hobgoblins  fierce! 
Their  tricks  I  know:  their  deep  deceptive  ways. 
'Tis  ever  my  delight  to  harass  them. 
Therefore  if  me  the  All-Father  will  permit, 
Straightway,  ye  gods,  I'll  go  upon  this  quest." 

XXIV 

He  ceased,  and  thus  the  king  of  gods  and  men: 
" Brave  words  are  these,  my  Thor;  brave  words, 

my  son. 

But  ever  thou  wast  daring,  and  a  deed 
Like  this  did  ever  to  thy  heart  appeal. 
Go.  Smite  the  giants,  and  bring  back  the  cup.1* 


Yule-tide  at  Gunter's  Court    117 

XXV 

Then  from  the  banquet  of  the  gods  went  forth 
Red-bearded  Thor,  blustering  and  full  of  wrath. 
Miolner  he  seized;  and  soon  his  golden  car 
Leaped    to    the    clouds,    by    goats    impetuous 

drawn. 

His  hammer  first  to  right  and  then  to  left 
He  hurled  in  fierce  delight;  his  chariot  wheels 
Rumbled  amidst  the  clouds;  and  from  the  plain 
The  sons  of  men  beheld  the  storm  rush  by. 
So  went  god  Thor  against  his  giant  foes. 

XXVI " 


Now  northward  and  yet  northward  sped  the  god 

Until  at  last  the  utmost  boreal  point 

Of  Scandian  land  he  reached — that  wedge-like 

cape 

Which  juts  into  the  lonely  Polar  Sea. 
And  here,  within  a  subterranean  hall 
Enormous,  many  a  rood  in  length  and  breadth, 
The  giant  Skrymer  dwelt.     Into  that  hall 
Strode,  all  impetuous,  the  Thunder-God, 
Miolner  in  hand.     Here,  at  a  table  long, 
The  giants  sat,  old  Skrymer  at  its  head. 
To    whom   god    Thor,    with    crafty,    flattering 

words: 


Ii8  Andvari's  Ring 

XXVII 

"Hail  Skrymer,  of  the  mountain  giants  king! 

(For  that  I  now  behold  that  monarch  great 

Of  whose  brave  deeds   my  ears  have  ofttimes 

heard 

I  cannot  doubt.)     Hail  all  ye  courtiers  fair! 
Upon  a  quest  of  import  high  I  come, 
Commissioned  by  the  father  of  the  gods, 
Odin,  than  whom  no  greater  name  exists 
In  heaven  or  earth  or  Hela's  realms  below: 
A  quest  of  import  but  most  difficult, 
And  therefore  your  assistance  now  I  crave. 
A  wondrous  cup  I  seek  which,  so  'tis  said, 
No  god  can  empty  though  from  eve  to  morn 
He  drink,  and  then  again  from  morn  till  eve. 
No  god  can  empty  it,  and  yet,  methinks, 
'Twould  be  an  easy  task  for  one  of  you, 
For  giants  in  a  mightier  mould  are  made." 

XXVIII 

He  ceased:  o'er  Skrymer's  visage  crept  a  smile 
As  to  the  fulsome  flattery  of  the  god 
He  listened:  then  the  giant  thus  replied: 

XXIX 

"Welcome  art  thou,  0  Thor,  to  giant  land! 
Welcome  to  this,  our  banquet  hall!     The  cup 
Which  none  can  empty,  and  which  now  thou 
seekst, 


"Yule-tide  at  Gunter's  Court    119 

Mine  eyes  have  seen.     Yea,  from  its  brim  my 

lips 

Have  drank  the  magic  ale  which  bubbles  forth. 
But  let's  of  that  hereafter.     Sit  thee  down 
Among  us,  and  be  merry  with  the  rest, 
Drinking    the    liquor    which    ourselves    have 

brewed. 
None  better  comes,  e'en  from  the  enchanted 

cup." 

XXX 

So  saying,  to  a  place  at  his  right  hand 

He  motioned,  and  ere  little  time  had  passed 

God  Thor  was  feasting  with  his  giant  foes. 

XXXI 

Now  when  their  fill  this  glorious  company 
Had  drank  and  eaten,  Skrymer  thus  addressed 
His  Asa  guest:     "Some  feats  of  strength  and 

skill, 

To  while  away  the  night,  we  ofttimes  have. 
What  sayst  thou,Thor?     Thou  art  the  honoured 

guest. 

Thyself,  therefore,  must  have  the  premier  trial. 
Here  is  a  cup  filled  to  the  brim  with  ale. 
Do  thou  now  empty  it.     A  test  it  is 
Of  manhood  with  us  giants.     At  one  draught 
Most  of  us  drain  it,  but  in  two,  at  most, 
The  weakest  of  our  band  can  finish  it." 


I2O  Andvari's  Ring 

XXXII 

With  smile  of  confidence  the  Asa  took 
The  cup  within  his  hands,  then  to  his  lips 
Placed  it,  and  with  a  mighty  effort  drank, 
Seeking  in  one  long  draught  to  empty  it. 
But  though  he  drank  till  all  his  breath  was  gone 
Scarce  had  the  liquor  sank  below  the  brim. 

XXXIII 

Old  Skrymer  smiled.     "  Methinks  our  honoured 

guest 

Two  drinks  will  need  in  which  to  drain  the  cup. 
Nay,  do  not  be  discouraged.     Try  again." 

XXXIV 

But  though  again  and  yet  again  he  strove, 
The  God  of  Thunder  could  not  drain  the  cup. 
Nay,  scarce  the  liquor  sank  below  the  brim. 

XXXV 

Then  Skrymer  thus:     "Perchance  some  other 

feat 

The  god  can  better  do — some  easier  thing. 
A  black  cat  have  we  here.     Methinks  to  lift 
This  cat  from  off  the  floor  were  no  hard  task." 


Yule-tide  at  Gxinter's  Court    121 

XXXVI 

Crestfallen  Thor  the  cat  essayed  to"  lift. 

But  though  he  strove  with  all  his  might  and 

main, 

Barely  to  move  one  foot  from  off  the  floor 
Took  all  the  strength  he  had.     Strange  did  it 

seem. 

XXXVII 

Then  Skrymer  smiled,  and  once  again  he  spoke: 
"  Much  have  I  heard  of  Asa  Thor — his  strength, 
His  reckless  courage  and  his  wondrous  deeds, 
And  yet  some  little  feat,  such  as  a  child 
Were  equal  to,  he  cannot  now  perform. 
Methinks  his  prowess  has  been  overpraised. 
However,  one  more  trial  of  strength  we'll  have — 
Perchance  his  reputation  he'll  retrieve. 
Come  hither,  nurse,  and  with  this  god  contend. 
A   wrestling  match   we'll   have.     Methinks   in 

this — 
A  noble  sport, — our  guest  doth  all  excel." 

XXXVIII 

As  thus  he  spoke  a  pale  and  withered  hag 
Hobbled  across  the  hall  and  grappling  Thor 
Within  her  arms  (though  with  all  strength  the 
god 


122  Andvari's  Ring' 

Struggled  to  free  himself  from  her  embrace) 
Lifted  him  from  his  feet.  Then  to  the  floor 
Tost  him,  as  though  a  feather  in  her  hands. 

XXXIX 

Loud  laughed  the  giants  all.     But  Skrymer  led 
Back  to  his  seat  the  god.     "No  more  we'll  mar, 
With  these  rough  tricks,  our  hospitality. 
Come,  brothers,  to  this  Asa  brave  let's  drink 
Good  health  and  happiness;  and  may  he  bear 
To  all  who  dwell  in  Asgard's  shining  halls, 
And  on  the  flowery  plains  of  Ida  meet 
For  interchange  of  thought  and  converse  wise, 
Best  wishes  from  the  giants  of  the  North." 

XL 

Now  when  it  came  Thor's  time  to  go  uprose 
All  those  huge  giants  and  did  him  salute. 
(Three  times  the  height  of   mortal  men  they 

stand) 

But  Skrymer  out  into  the  open  air — 
Where  waited  for  the  god  his  goat-drawn  car — 
Passed  with  him  and,  when  quite  alone  they 

were, 

Thus  spoke:     "Be  not  down-hearted,  Asa  Thor, 
That  in  those  feats  such  showing  poor  thou 

madest. 

In  truth,  'twas  all  enchantment.     The  gold  cup 
Thou  couldst  not  empty,  from  the  mighty  deep 


Yvile-tide  at  Gxinter's  Coxirt    123 

Its  liquor  drew  (though  changed  to  foaming  ale 
Was  this  by  witchcraft)  and  when  thou  didst 

drink 

The  sea  ran  backward  from  the  sandy  shore 
E'en  as  the  tide  doth  ebb,  and  on  the  beach 
The  greybeards  stood,  watching  in  wonderment 
That  ocean  thus,  all  out  of  time,  should  ebb. 
The  cat  thou  soughtst  to  lift  was  not  a  cat, 
But  the  great  Midgard  Serpent  who  beneath 
The  illimitable  ocean  ever  dreams, 
To  wake  not  till  the  Day  of  Ragnorok; 
And  when  one  paw  thy  Asa  strength  did  lift, 
Methought  the  ending  of  all  things  had  come. 
And  the  beshriveled  hag  who  threw  thee  down, 
Dost  think  she  was  a  common  beldame?     Nay. 
Old  Age  she  was,  who  conquers  every  one. 
Well,  therefore,  Thor,  didst  thou  acquit  thyself, 
Almost  to  accomplish  the  impossible. 
Lives  not,  in  earth  or  heaven,  a  braver  soul. 
And,  as  a  mark  of  my  sincere  regard, 
This  magic  goblet,  from  whose  depths  the  ale 
Forever  flows,  on  thee  I  now  bestow. 
Already  in  the  banquet  hall  thy  lips 
Have  proved  its  wondrous  capabilities." 


XLI 


So  saying,  in  the  hands  of  Thor  he  placed 
The  magic  cup;  but  ere  the  astonished  god 
Could  voice  his  thanks,  old  Skrymer  in  the  air 


124  Andvari's  Ring 

Had  vanished,  for  in  all  illusions  strange, 
And  every  kind  of  witchcraft  was  he  wise. 

XLII 

Then  to  his  golden  car  the  Thunder-God 
Turned,  and  re-entered,  and  his  restless  goats 
Swift-mounted  to  the  clouds,  as  toward  the  hall 
Of  ^Egir  now  the  happy  Asa  sped, 
Bearing  within  his  hands  the  magic  cup. 

(End  of  the  Song  ofOlafthe  Red) 
XLIII 

The  minstrel  ceased,  and  through  the  banquet 

hall 

Rang  mighty  plaudits  of  the  voice  and  hand. 
And  when  the  din  had  somewhat  slackened  rose 
King  Gunter  from  his  seat  beside  his  bride, 
High  on  the  dais,  and  with  words  of  praise 
Olaf  saluted,  and  a  purse  of  gold 
Likewise  bestowed  upon  the  famous  bard. 
Then  round  the  board  the  horns  of    nut-brown 

ale 

Resumed  their  journey,  and  the  mighty  logs 
Brighter  and  ever  brighter  blazed.     The  night 
Moved  onward  with  a  joyous  majesty. 
E'en  like  Valhalla  seemed  the  glittering  scene — 
That  glorious  hall  above  where,  after  death, 
The  heroes  feast  among  the  immortal  gods. 


Yule-tide  at  Center's  Court    125 

XLIV 

Thus   flourished   Yule-tide   at   King   Gunter's 

court. 

And  thus  the  double  wedding,  with  all  pomp, 
Was  celebrated.     Surely  'twas  a  time 
For  laughter  and  illimitable  joy — 
A  marriage  feast,  a  feast  of  Yule,  in  one. 


X 

IN  THE  GARDEN 


Now  northward  once  more  comes  the  Sun,  from 

climes 

Austral  returning  to  the  German  land, 
And  straight  before  his  glorious  presence  flee 
Darkness  and  cold  as,  with  a  bounteous  hand, 
Light  he  dispenses — vivifying  light — 
And  balmy  winds,  and  ever-lengthening  days. 
And  as,  in  Roman  triumph,  at  the  front 
Of  the  long  line  the  conqueror  rides,  and  him 
Fair    captive    maidens    follow,    crown'd    with 

flowers, 

So  now,  as  up  the  heavenly  highway  rides 
Balder  triumphant,  in  his  train  appears 
Bright  Easter,  goddess  of  the  spring,  by  troupes 
Of  sunny  hours  accompanied — maidens  fair, 
Nymphs  of  the  golden  spring-time,  such  as  wake 
The  hearts  of  men  to  ecstasy — with  flowers 
Bedecked  and  followed  by  melodious  birds. 
So  rises  Balder  out  of  Hela's  shades — 
Immortal,  glorious — bringing  back  to  earth 
126 


In  tKe  Garden'  127 

Light,  life,  anl  all  we  love.     So  follow  him, 
Year  after  year,  dear  to  the  hearts  of  men, 
The  spirits  of  the  spring-time  jubilant — 
Easter  and  all  her  nymphs — a  pageant  fair! 


ii 


Within  her  garden,  at  the  sunset  hour, 

Queen  Brynhild  sat;  but  on  her  spirit  fell, 

Well-nigh  unheeded,  all  the  charms  of  spring. 

The  soft  caresses  of  the  balmy  breeze, 

The  upturned  faces  of  the  early  flowers, 

The  voices  sweet  of  the  returning  birds, 

None,   none  could  pierce  the  armour   of   her 

gloom. 

E'en  as  a  mourner  gazing  on  some  show 
Beholds  it  not,  or  only  half  beholds, 
Conscious  but  dimly  of  the  spectacle, 
So  Brynhild  gazed  upon  the  earth  and  sky. 
Bitter  her  soul,  brooding  upon  its  wrong, 
Ever  rebelling  against  Fate's  decree. 
And  as,  encompassed  by  her  mood,  she  sat, 
To  her  King  Gunter,  through  the  palace  grounds 
Slow  wandering  with  his  dogs  at  close  of  day, 
Came  and,  half  chidingly ,  thus  her  addressed : 


III 


"Brynhild,  my  queen,  why  dost  thou  ever  sit 
Alone?     Why  dost  thou  ever  seek  the 


128  Andvari's  Ring 

Where  none  assemble?     Queens  should  gracious 

.  be' 
Shining,  like  the  resplendent  sun,  for  all; 

Not  leading  lives  recluse,  like  cloistered  nuns, 
Unseen  of  men.     Lovest  thou  not  the  gay  court, 
With  all  its  joys?     Lovest  thou  not  Burgundy, 
Our  beauteous  land?     Lovest  thou  not  me,  its 
king?" 


IV 


Thus  Gunter:  to  the  valkyr's  eyes  a  light 
Leaped  like  a  sword  flashing  from  out  its  sheath : 
Then,  rising  to  her  feet,  she  spoke:     "What  use 
Longer  to  play  a  part?     I  love  thee  not; 
Thee  nor  thy  court  nor  Burgundy.     A  trick, 
Abhorred  of  Odin,  gave  me  to  thy  arms. 
Rather  upon  that  mountain  would  I  sleep 
Once  more,  where  long  I  slept,  begirt  by  fire, 
Far  in  the  northern  seas,  than  be  thy  queen! 
Methinks  ofttimes  upon  that  lonely  isle, 
With  helmet  bowed,  my  father  Odin  sits, 
Grieving  upon  his  erring  daughter's  fate. 
0  would  that  I  could  see  once  more  his  face, 
E'en  though  by  wrath  and  sorrow  clouded  o'erl 
See  as  I  saw  it  when,  with  waving  spear, 
He  cast  the  spell  about  me,  and  the  flames 
Commanded  to  protect  me  from  all  harm! 
Happier  my  heart  to  be  by  him  condemned 
Than  by  the  ignoble  Gunter  to  be  praised!" 


In  tHe   Garden  129 


Thus  Brynhild:  then,  like  some  long  pent-up 

flood 

Bursting,  at  last,  its  barriers  strong,  went  on: 
"I  love  thee  not!    Art  thou  the  hero  bright 
My  father  Odin  dreamt  of  when  he  girt 
My  rocky  couch  with  fire  and  sought  thereby 
To  save  me  from  all  men  of  common  clay? 
Art  thou  the  mortal  for  a  goddess  meet? 
Art  thou  the  viking  bold  who  sailed  the  seas, 
Seeking  the  sacred  isle  of  Helgoland, 
And  climbed  the  dizzy  cliff,  and  through  the 

flame 
Plunged,  and  the  spell  dissolved  which  held  me 

fast? 

To  him  do  I  belong,  and  not  to  thee, 
Ingloriously  waiting  by  the  Rhine! 
For  him  was  I  intended.     Thus  'twas  planned 
By  the  immortal  father  of  the  gods. 
But  o'er  the  gods  the  mystic  sisters  sit, 
Spinning  the  thread  of  Fate;  the  sisters  three, 
All  potent,  cruel;  Urd,  Verdandi,  Skuld. 
And  jealous  of  my  beauty  and  my  power 
Were  they  (at  least,  such  is  my  thought)  and 

sought 

Me  to  abase  who  in  Valhalla's  halls 
Once  shone  more  lovely  than  fair  Freya's  self, 
And  dwelt  supreme  in  the  All-Father's  heart. 
Alas!  most  treacherously  have  the  dread  Norns 

9 


130  Andvari's  Ring 

Dealt  by  me,  and  the  purpose  merciful 
Of  Odin, — to  preserve  me  from  the  worst, — 
Thwarted.     The  weakling  Gunter  have  I  got; 
I  who  was  meant  for  Sigurd.     Alas!    Alas!" 

VI 

"Lovest  thou  then  Sigurd?"     Thus  the  king; 

and  him 

Answered  the  valkyr,  haughty  was  her  mien: 
"No  man  I  love;  but  of  all  earthly  men 
Sigurd,  the  son  of  Sigmund,  is  the  best; 
And  like  bright  Balder  in  the  east  doth  shine 
Eclipsing  with  his  light  the  puny  stars." 

VII 

"Thou   lovest    Sigurd!    Aye!"     King    Gunter 

gasped. 
"Fool,  that  mine  eyes  discerned  it  not  before!" 

VIII 

So  saying  (like  a  wounded  man  who  strives 
Steadily  to  walk,  but  staggers  in  his  gait, 
Stunned  by  the  shock,  and  faint  from  loss  of 

blood), 

King  Gunter  from  the  fatal  garden  passed. 
And,  as  he  slowly  trod,  once  round  he  turned 
And,  looking  backward  wistfully,  beheld, 
Lit  by  the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun, 
Her  face  within  her  hands,  as  if  she  wept, 
Brynhild  the  valkyr,  standing  motionless. 


XI 
GUNTER'S  SOLILOQUY 


"  BEFORE  me  in  the  rocky  isle  he  was, 
Before  me  in  the  valkyr's  stormy  heart. 
Methinks  I  see  it  all.     E'en  as  the  sun, 
Risen,  doth  illumine  with  his  light  a  road 
Wherein  by  night  we  walked  in  darkness  dense, 
And  looking  back  with  unobstructed  eyes 
Clearly  we  see  that  road,  so  have  her  words 
Illumed  the  path  wherein  I  long  have  trod. 
Fool!     Purblind,  blundering  fool!     By  the  dark 

clouds 

Of  egotism  enwrapped  and  vain  conceit, 
Seeing  not  what  to  all  other  eyes  was  plain. 
She  loves  him ;  she  hath  loved  him  from  the  first ; 
And  I,  the  king,  am  naught.     Aye,  worse  than 

naught ; 

Stupidly  standing,  a  poor  loathsome  thing, 
Ever  between  her  heart  and  its  desire. 
Yet  do  I  blame  them  not.     The  fault  was  mine, 
If  fault  it  can  be  called  to  harbour  love, 
Which  comes  unbidden  and  at  his  own  will 


132  Andvari's  Ring 

Departs.     A  boy  capricious,  as  the  bards 
Of  Greece  and  Rome  have  ever  pictured  him. 
Cupid,  the  wandering  archer,  full  of  guile. 
She  loves  him?    Aye.     But  free  from  fault  are 

they; 

Wholly,  devotedly  he  loves  Gudrun. 
She  loves  him?    Aye.     But  hopeless  is  her  love; 
E'en  like  mine  own.     Would  that  we  ne'er  had 

met, 
Fair  Brynhild,  that  I  ne'er  had  heard  thy  name ! " 


Thus    Gunter    with    himself    communed:    his 

dream 

Vanished  as  vanishes,  by  a  prickle  pierced, 
The  iridescent  bubble  in  the  air. 


XII 
HAGEN  AND   GISELHER 


"HERE  let  us  sit,  beneath  this  ancient  elm 
Which  once  more,  at  the  magic  touch  of  spring, 
Bursts  into  bloom.     Something  upon  my  mind 
Lies  which  I  fain  would  tell  to  thee  alone." 


n 


Thus  Hagen,  o'er  the  April  meadows  green 
Roaming   with    Giselher,    the   king's   brother, 

spoke. 
Then,  as  themselves  they  seated,  he  went  on: 

ill 

"Know  that  last  eve,  when  sunset  dyed  the  sky, 
I,  wandering  near  the  garden  of  the  queen, 
Heard  voices,  or,  to  be  more  accurate, 
A  woman's  voice  and,  nearer  to  the  spot 
Drawing,  beheld  King  Gunter  and  his  spouse, 
Brynhild  the  valkyr.     He  in  silence  stood; 
133 


134  Andvari's  Ring' 

Vehement  her  utterance.     Much   against   my 

will 

Was  it,  like  some  low  eavesdropper,  to  list; 
But  from  the  place  I  could  not  then  escape, 
And  forced  was  I  to  hear.  This,  then,  the 

gist 

Of  Brynhild's  wild  tirade, — That  she,  in  truth, 
Loved  Gunter  not   a  whit,  nor  ever  had, 
But  only  Sigurd.     Scarcely  could  my  ears 
Believe  the  words.     Thy  brother,  like  a  man 
Stabbed    to    the    heart,   with  face  white  as  a 

ghost, 

Listened  in  silence,  then,  some  broken  words 
Muttering,    passed    like    a   shadow    from   the 

spot. 

My  heart  wept  for  him.     But  the  valkyr  stood, 
Wrapped  in  her  gloom,  a  statue  motionless; 
And  afterward  upon  the  garden  bench 
Sitting  remained  till  long  into  the  night. 
Perchance    she    waited    Sigurd    there?    Who 

knows?" 


IV 


"What  thinkst  thou,  Hagen,  is't  an  olden  flame 
Long  smouldering  and  now  bursting  through  its 

bounds, 

Or  is  it  something  new,  this  love  betwixt 
Queen  Brynhild  and  the  Norseman?"     Giselher 

thus. 


Hagen  and  GiselKer  135 

v 

To  whom  then  Hagen:    "I  know  not.     Me- 

thinks, 

However,  that  upon  the  selfsame  day 
Of  their  first  meeting  the  amour  began. 
False  was  he  to  the  king — false  to  Gudrun. 
No  word  of  mine  this  accusation  gross 
Hath  hinted  until  now  but,  ne'ertheless, 
Ever  within  my  breast  suspicion  dwelt 
And  would  not    down,  and   now  the  traitress 

lips 
Of  Brynhild  have  themselves  proclaimed  the 

worst. 

This  will  I  tell  thee  which  I  never  told 
The  king,  thy  brother.     When  in  Helgoland 
We  landed,  up  the  cliff  precipitous 
Which  led  to  Brynhild's  bower  enchanted  I, 
Being  of  body  bulky,  could  not  climb, 
And  on  the  sandy  beach  was  forced  to  wait, 
Impatiently,  the  upshot  of  the  attempt. 
The  meeting  on  the  mountain  top,  therefore, 
I  saw  not,  nor  have  I,  from  then  till  now, 
From  lips  of  either  Sigurd  or  the  queen, 
Learned  aught  about  it,  though  the  livelong 

day, 

From  morn  till  eve,  they  passed  together.     This 
(Perchance  'twas  wrong,)  I  never  told  the  king, 
Fearing  his  deep  displeasure,  though,  methinks, 
Sigurd  he  wholly  trusted  until  now." 


136  Andvari's  Ring' 

VI 

"Belike  the  Norseman's  blood  alone  will  quench 
Gunter's    deep    thirst    for    vengeance?    What 

thinkstthou?" 
Thus  Giselher,  and  to  him  Hagen  replied: 

VII 

' '  Would  it  were  so !    This  Sigurd  I  love  not. 

If  he  hath  been  disloyal  to  his  king, 

Thy  brother,  and  disloyal  to  his  bride, 

Thy  sister,  then  methinks  his  faithless  life 

Were  better  ended.     Yet  I  fear  the  trust 

Of  Gunter  in  his  friend,  so  absolute, 

May,  e'en  against  the  damning  evidence, 

Unshaken  stand.     This,  then,  shall  be  our  task — 

To  see  to  it  that  Gunter  falters  not 

In  wreaking  vengeance  on  the  outlander; 

But  if  he  weakly  hesitate  (his  faith 

In  Sigurd,  spite  of  all  appearances 

Avowing)  then  ourselves  to  strike  the  blow, 

For  the  king's  honour,  and  for  Burgundy!" 

VIII 

Thus  Hagen,  with  indignant  gesture,  spoke, 
Feigning  the  old  retainer's  loyal  rage, 
And  to  his  eyes  the  light  of  cruel  hate 
Leaped,  as  he  spoke,  like  a  malignant  flame 


Hag'en  and  GiselHer  137 

Rising  from  out  the  realms  of  the  accurst, 
Seen  for  an  instant,  and  then  falling  back 
Into  that  dread  abyss  where  evil  dwells. 


IX 


And  Giselher  answered,  "Aye,  thou  speakest 

well." 

Gunter  unlike  was  he,  Gernot  unlike. 
For  they,  the  eldest  brother  and  the  third, 
Looked  not  for  evil,  ever  holding  good 
Mankind  till  proven  base.     But  in  the  soul 
Of  Giselher,  the  swart  second  son,  distrust 
Dwelt,  and  suspicion  ever  on  its  guard, 
Doubt  of  all  things  in  heaven  and  earth.     For  he, 
Looking  within  his  own  heart,  guile  beheld, 
And  seeing  it  thus  guileful  and  of  trust 
Unworthy,  deemed  all  others  like  himself. 


Then  from  their  seat  beneath  the  ancient  elm" 
Arose  these  twain  and  o'er  the  meadows  green 
Passed  like  a  brace  of  vultures  who,  far  off, 
Scent,  with  a  loathsome  glee,  the  field  of  blood. 


XIII 
HAGEN'S   SOLILOQUY 


"HAD  I  the  Niblung's  Ring  what  wealth  were 

mine! 

What  power  illimitable,  for  wealth  is  power, 
And  glittering  gold  the  monarch  of  this  world ! 
Would,  therefore,  that  Andvari's  Hoard  were 

mine! 

Not  that  soft  luxury,  or  sweet  delights 
Of  love  I  crave,  or  state  magnificent — 
Palace  and  park  and  garden  such  as  those 
With  which  the  Roman  doth  surround  himself. 
These  tempt  not  my  stern  soul.     'Tis  power 

alone 

I  covet,  not  its  pomps  and  vanities. 
Mine  be  the  cold  grey  steel   which  wins  the 

fight, 
Not  the  triumphal  pageant  afterward. 

II 

"When  Sigurd  dies,  and  die  ere  long  he  shall, 
I'll  seize  from  off  his  hand  the  Niblung's  Ring, 
138 


Hag'en's  Soliloquy  139 

The  golden  serpent  with  two  ruby  eyes, 
The  magic  talisman  which  doth  rule  the  Hoard. 
What  wealth,  what  power,  what  joy  will  then  be 
mine!" 

in 

Thus  did  the  envious  Hagen  with  his  soul 
Commune,  and  in  bright  dreams  himself  beheld 
Possessor  of  the  Niblung's  wondrous  Hoard. 


XIV 
ERDA'S  PROPHECY 


Now  Sigurd,  by  forebodings  vague  depressed,— 
For  o'er  his  hero-soul  impending  doom 
Already  cast  its  shadow,— rose  by  night 
And,  from  the  homes  of   men  far  wandering, 

sought, 

Within  her  cave  upon  the  mountainside, 
Erda,  the  prophetess,  that  from  her  lips 
Inspired  his  lot  predestined  he  might  learn. 
Like  Delphi's  holy  pythoness  was  she, 
Who,  sitting  on  the  tripod,  did  receive 
The  oracles  of  the  Olympian  god; 
Save  that  with  Erda  did  commune  no  god, 
Olympian  nor  Valhallan,  but  instead 
Priestess  she  was  of  that  pale  trinity 
Who  dwell  above  the  gods,  outside  of  time, 
Whose  will  is  fate  immutable  and  who, 
Beholding  the  beginning  and  the  end, 
Foreknow  the  lot  of  each  created  thing: 
The  Norns— the  mystic  sisters  three— who  sit 
Ever  beside  the  ash-tree  Ygdrasil, 
140 


Erda's  PropKecy  141 

Impassive,  clothed  in  white,  rose-garlanded, 
Singing  of  days  gone  by  and  days  to  come, 
Spinning  the  thread  of  destiny — 'twas  they 
Who  through  the  lips  of  Erda  spake  to  men. 

II 

Vault-like  upon  the  mountainside  the  cave 
Of  Erda  opened:  here,  at  midnight,  came 
Sigurd  and,  kneeling  in  the  entrance,  thus 
Addressed  the  priestess  of  the  mystic  Norns: 

in 

"Erda,  thou  holy  one,  to  whom  all-  things 

In  heaven  and  earth  are  known,  to  whom  the 

Past, 

The  Present,  and  the  Future  are  as  one 
(For  hast  thou  not  been  chosen  by  the  Norns 
Their  vicar  here  below?),  thee  I  beseech 
To  grant  me  now  foreknowledge  of  the  fate 
Which  doth  await  me.     By  misgivings  vague 
Depressed,  my  spirit  fain  would  hear  thy  voice. 
Far  wandering  from  the  haunts  of  men  by  night 
My  feet  have  sought  thy  sanctuary.     What  ill 
Knocks  at  my  door?      Is  it  some  peril  weird, 
Such  as  in  days  gone  by  my  soul  hath  faced 
Unshrinking,  nay,  with  a  wild  joy?     Or  is't 
The  inevitable  hour  which  comes  to  all? 
The  stroke  of  doom?    The  thing  which  men  call 

death. 
Hear  me,  thou  holy  one,  and  grant  my  prayer!" 


142  Andvari's  Ring 

IV 

He  ceased  and  on  the  cavern's  floor  remained, 
Kneeling,  all  motionless.     Then  far  within 
The  sanctuary  a  light  celestial  dawned 
And,  in  its  midst,  before  the  warrior's  eyes, 
Appeared,  like  goddess  by  an  aureole  bright 
Enveloped,  Erda.     Beautiful  her  face 
But  sad;  black  as  the  raven's  wing  her  hair; 
Her  mien  majestic;  her  tall  figure  robed 
In  samite  white,  with  golden  cincture  girt. 
As  in  all  ages  of  the  world  hath  been 
The  sibyl's  mystic  answer  (that  of  her 
Of  Samos,  who  the  Trojan  war  foretold; 
Or  her  of  Cumae,  whom  ^Eneas  sought, 
Foreteller  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  Rome), 
E'en  such  was  Erda's  now,  as  she  foretold 
The  death  of  Sigurd,  and  to  him  declared 
The  future  glories  of  the  Scandian  race; 
E'en  such  was  Erda's  answer  now: — A  voice 
Prophetic  echoing  in  the  halls  of  time : 
A  message  from  the  realms  beyond  the  veil; 
Immortal  purposes  to  mortal  man 
Revealed.     Thus,  then,  the  mystic  sibyl  spoke: 


"Sigurd,  thy  earthly  end  draws  near;  ere  rise 
The  suns  of  many  days  above  the  Rhine, 
Upborne  to  high  Valhalla  wilt  thou  be 
By  valkyrs  fair — a  warrior's  obsequies. 


Erda's  Prophecy  143 

Sigmund,  thy  father,  and  thy  mother,  sweet 
Siglinda,  there  await  thee;  and  Gudrun, 
Thy  wife  beloved,  soon  will  thee  rejoin. 
Thus,  sitting  by  the  ash-tree,  speak  the  Norns." 

VI 

A  space  the  sibyl  paused,  and  then  went  on: 

VII 

"Aye,  Sigurd,  thou  must  die;  but  glory  waits 
Thy  race.     Into  the  world's  arena  now, 
Fresh  from  his  eyrie  in  the  Scandian  hills, 
Descends  the  Northman.     His  the  mind  robust, 
Clear  as  the  wind-swept  sky;  the  body  his 
At  home  with  Nature,  whatsoe'er  her  mood, 
To  sun  and  storm,  to  cold  and  heat  inured. 
Born  on  the  mountains,  on  the  ocean  bred, 
He  knows  not  luxury's  all-encumbering  chains — 
Silken  without,  but  links  of  steel  beneath. 
Fain,  like  the  eagle,  would  he  roam  for  aye, 
And   toward   the   Southland   his   adventurous 

flight 
He    turns.     There    Rome   aweary   sits.     Her 

heart 

No  more  ambition  fires :  no  more  her  brain 
Plans  conquests  vast ;  her  erstwhile  puissant  arm 
Droops  by  her  side,  and  all  unheeded  hangs 
That  sword  the  godlike  Julius  once  did  wield. 
Years  weigh  her  Titan  spirit  down,  for  states, 


144  Andvari's  Ring 

Like  men,  grow  old,  and  with  Rome's  years  have 

come 

Vast  riches,  ease  luxurious,  the  command 
Of  all  things  upon  earth.     Is't  strange  her  sons, 
Once  rugged,  now  degenerate  grown,  esteem 
As  useless  toil  the  storm  and  stress  of  war? 
New  blood  the  world  doth  need,  for  the  world's 

work 
Strong  hands,  stout  hearts  demands,  and  he  who 

rules 

This  world,  the  wise  All-Father,  and  doth  see 
Each  century's  wants,  hath    picked   from    the 

far  North 
Rome's  heir.     The  Norseman  takes  the  Roman's 

place. 

The  sceptre  to  a  younger  race  descends, 
Though  masterful  as  were  the  men  of  Rome. 
Behold!    As  flow  the  torrents  from  the  hills, 
What  time  bright  Spring  unlocks  the  Winter's 

clasp, 

So  from  their  Scandian  homes,  unceasing,  flow 
The  hardy  Northmen  o'er  the  Roman  lands 
And,  like  a  vivifying  flood,  restore 
Youth  to  a  world  effete.      They  come!      They 

come! 
Out    of   the   dark   northeast,    from    Sweden's 

shores, 

From  Norway's  fiords,  from  Denmark's  wind 
swept  dunes, 
One  people  called  by  many  names,  one  race 


Erda's  PropKecy  145 

Of  ocean- warriors,  golden-haired  they  come ! 
Methinks  as  in  a  dream  I  see  them  now. 
With  tossing  prows  far  out  at  sea  beheld, 
With  spears  and  helmets   through  the    ocean 

mists 

Flashing,  they  come;  unheralded;  with  dread 
Watched  by  those  spirits  pusillanimous 
Whose  purblind  eyes    see   not   in   these  fierce 

foes 

Heaven's  chosen  seed,  the  saviours  of  the  land. 
Wild  giants  they,  wet  with  the  salt  sea-foam, 
But  in  their  lives  the  primal  virtues  shine — 
Strength,  courage,  justice,  boundless  energy, 
Truth-telling,  love  of  home,  contempt  of  death, 
High    wisdom,    and    all    else   that   makes  the 

man — 

And  through  them  is  old  Europe  born  again. 
As  comes  the  spring-time  back  to  earth,   so 

comes 

Once  more  the  age  heroic  back  to  men. 
The  figure  of  a  Norseman,  spear  in  hand, 
Crown'd  with  his  winged  helmet,  eagle-like 
Roaming,  in  dragon-ship,  the  ocean,  looms 
Above  the  world's  horizon :  I  behold, 
Comrades    in    fame,   thy  vikings  range  them 
selves 

Beside  the  stalwart  shapes  that  founded  Rome, 
And  hero-hosts  Hellenic;  and  in  thee, 
Sigurd,  though  briefer  was  thy  life  than  theirs, 
Ulysses  and  ^Eneas  live  again. 


146  Andvari's  Ring 

VIII 

"But    see!     E'en    now,    on    Britain's    stormy 

shores, 

Hengist  and  Horsa,  with  their  sea-tost  hosts, 
Land,  and  great  England,  Rome's  predestined 

heir, 

Begins  her  conquering  march.     As,  in  a  gale, 
A  mighty  tidal  wave,  holp  by  the  winds, 
Breaks  on  some  isle,  and  overwhelms  the  land, 
All  things  submerging;  so,  on  Britain's  isle, 
The  viking  tide,  in  waves  successive,  breaks, 
And  overflows  the  land;  o'erflows  save  where, 
In  west  and  north,  the  mountain  fastnesses 
Of  Wales  and  Caledonia  lift  their  towers. 
Angles,     Jutes,     Saxons,     Norsemen,     Swedes, 

Goths,  Danes, 

One  people  called  by  many  names,  one  race 
Of  ocean-warriors,  golden-haired,  they  come. 
A  thousand  years  before  me  stretch — I  see 
The  wild  beginnings  of  a  nation;  all 
The  ferment  which  precedes  the  ordered  state: 
The  clash  of  rival  clans:  the  jars  and  wars 
Of  petty  kingdoms,  jealous  of  their  rights: 
The  inevitable  struggles  manifold 
Which  leave  the  fittest  master.     I  behold 
Strong  kings  contending  for  the  land :  the  hosts 
Of  Arthur  against  Saxon  Cerdic  hurled : 
The  life-long  wars  of  Alfred  with  the  Danes : 
The  battle  fierce  of  Brunanburgh,  where  strove 


Erda's  Prophecy  147 

From  morn  till  night,  Olaf  and  Athelstan; 

The  victories  of  the  great  Canute :  and  last, 

The  triumph  epochal,  on  Senlac  Hill, 

Of  Norman  William,  greatest  of  them  all, 

Scion  of  Rollo's  ocean-cradled  race. 

I    see,  slow-rising  through  the  years,  like  tower 

Broad-based   with   glittering   tops   which   seek 

the  sky, 

England,  a  realm  by  sea-kings'  swords  upbuilt. 
If  thou  wouldst  know  the  soul  of  this  fair  isle, 
The  well-spring  of  her  spirit  bright,  behold, 
In  the  far  North,  the  sources  of  her  life! 
Thy  North,  my  Sigurd !     See  the  choicest  sons 
Of  those  grey  coasts  begirt  by  boreal  sea, 
Their  mother-lands  forsaking,  give  their  strength, 
Bequeath  their  spirits  venturesome  and  brave, 
To  England,  in  whose  veins,  compounded,  live 
Angle,  Jute,  Saxon,  Norman,  Swede,  and  Dane. 
Aye,  of  the  North's  best  blood  is  England  born! 
A  valkyr  beautiful,  methinks,  she  stands, 
Leaning  upon  her  spear;  her  golden  locks 
Crown'd  by  the  winged  helmet — Odin's  child ! 
In  her  the  viking  spirit  lives  for  aye ! 
In  her  wild  Scandia  flowers !     Thy  soul  and  hers, 
Sigurd,  are  one!     By  her  thy  youthful  dream, 
To  wander  like  some  great-wing'd  ocean-bird, 
Petrel  or  gull  or  tireless  albatross, 
Ever  and  ever  upon  the  dark  blue  sea — 
By  her  this  viking  dream,  though  lost  to  thee, 
Shall  be  fulfilled !     In  her  thy  race  shall  rise 


148  Andvari's 

To  heights  majestic,  and  men  now  unborn, 
Back    looking    through    the    centuries,    shall 

behold, 

In  history's  sky,  great  England  shining  bright 
(Twin  orbs  of  light)  beside  imperial  Rome!" 


IX 


The  sibyl  ceased,  and  though  for  further  speech 
Sigurd,  with  eager  utterance,  her  besought, 
She  disappeared  within  the  cavern's  depths. 


XV 
THE  DEATH  OF  SIGURD 


BEYOND  the  Rhine,  east  of  its  silvery  stream, 
Between  the  Neckar  and  the  Main  outstretched, 
A  mighty  forest  lies — the  Odenwald. 
Leagues  north  and  south,  leagues  east  and  west 

extends 

This  ancient  wood,  upon  the  sloping  sides 
Of  mountains  lifted,  or  outspread  in  vales 
Innumerable.     A  rugged  tract  it  is 
Of  primal  forest  rooted  in  the  rocks 
Of  earlier  ages :  a  vast  wilderness 
Of  woods  and  peaks,   deep  glens  and   sunny 

glades, 

Of  grass-grown  summits  and  pellucid  streams. 
Here  range  at  will  the  creatures  of  the  wild — 
The  bear,  the  wolf,  the  deer,  the  fox,  the  boar. 
Here,    them    to    slaughter,    man,    the    hunter, 

comes. 

149 


150  Andvari's  Ring 

ii 

What  time  the  summer  morn  in  beauty  breaks, 
And  sing  the  early  birds'  from  many  a  bough, 
Rose  Sigurd  from  his  couch  beside  Gudrun, 
And  for  the  chase  began  to  make  prepare. 
For  he,  that  day,  deep  in  the  Odenwald 
Would  hunt,  with  Hagen  and  the  brothers  twain, 
Gernot  and  Giselher.     So  betimes  he  rose. 

in 

Now  as,  accoutred  for  the  chase,  he  stood 
Within  their  chamber,  suddenly  to  his  side, 
A  wave  of  radiant  beauty,  swept  Gudrun, 
And  round  his  puissant  shoulders  her  white 

arms 

Threw,  and  her  lily  face,  so  passing  fair, 
To  him  uplifted,  and,  with  troubled  voice 
Beseeching  him,  tears  in  her  eyes,  thus  spoke: 

IV 

"0  go  not  to  the  chase  today!    Last  night 
Dread  dreams  affrighted  me.     I  saw  thee  fall, 
Deep  in  the  Odenwald,  by  two  fierce  boars 
Assailed.     Thee  on  the  sward  lifeless  I  saw, 
Thy  heart's  blood  dyeing  red  the  forest's  green. 
O  go  not  to  the  chase,  today,  dear  lord! 
Something  knocks  at  the  portals  of  my  life 
And  tells  me  I  shall  never  see  thee  more!" 


The  Death  of  Sigxird  151 


So  saying,  on  her  husband's  breast  she  laid 
Her  golden  head,  and  wept,  and  tightly  wound 
About  his  neck  her  alabastrine  arms. 


VI 


Then  Sigurd  thus:     "Something  me  also  warns. 

Something  doth  tell  me  evil  lurks  ahead. 

But  if  'tis  Fate's  decree  that  I  should  die, 

If  'tis  permitted  by  the  mighty  Norns, 

What  use  for  me,  the  creature  of  a  day, 

To  seek  to  avert  the  blow,  to  dodge  my  doom? 

What  comes  will  come.     None  can  his  weird 

escape. 
And   who  can   tell?     Perchance  my  mood   is 

naught — 

A  passing  cloudlet  which  upon  my  soul, 
But  for  a  moment,  doth  its  shadow  cast? 
Perchance  thy  dream  nothing  doth  signify? 
If  so,  why  like  a  coward  should  I  shrink 
From  fancied  perils?    Better  'tis  to  live 
Free  from  the  bonds  of  fear,  and  when  the  time 
Comes  to  depart,  as  fearlessly  to  go, 
Than  of  that  last,  inevitable  hour 
Always  to  stand  in  dread.     Better  it  is 
To  die  once  only,  not  a  thousand  times. 
Nay,  dearest,  let  us  put  aside  thy  dreams, 
My  sad  forebodings.     See !     The  summer  sun 


152  Andvari's  Ring 

Bathes  all  the  landscape,  and  the  beauteous 

Rhine 

Winds  like  a  golden  road  beneath  its  light! 
Soon  o'er  those  waters  swift  we'll  make  our  way, 
And  then,  ho!  for  the  merry  greenwood  tree!" 

VII 

He  ceased  and,  clasping  close  between  his  hands 

Her  lily  face,  kissed  tenderly  and  oft, 

As  is  the  wont  of  lovers,  those  sweet  lips, 

Now  tremulous  with  sad  solicitude. 

Then  to  the  spacious  palace  grounds  the  twain 

Descended,  she  aye  clinging  to  his  side 

(Her  heart  in  secret  weeping) ,  and  there  found 

Gernot  and  Giselher,  and  the  gloomy  knight, 

Hagen,  accoutred  all  for  the  day's  chase. 

Gunter  alone  was  absent,  state  affairs 

His  excusation,  but  his  haughty  queen 

Showed  at  her  casement  like  a  dark-stoled  nun 

Gazing  upon  some  scene  of  revelry. 

And  when  their  fast  they'd  broken  and  good-byes 

Said  the  impatient  sportsmen  toward  the  Rhine 

Strode   off,    and   soon   were   rowed    across   its 

stream. 

Steeds  them  awaited  on  the  other  side, 
And  hounds  and  huntsmen  at  the  Odenwald. 

VIII 

Now  when,  at  last,  the  great  plain  of  the  Rhine 
Was  left  behind  them,  and  the  forest's  depths 


The  DeatH  of  Sigurd  153 

They  entered,  gay  the  scene  which  met  their 

eyes. 

Here  was  the  meet :  here  many  a  gallant  hound 
Impatient  waited,  many  a  forester 
In  wood-craft  wise.     Then  spoke,  with  gestures 

droll, 

A  grizzly-bearded  huntsman :  this  his  tale. 
He  in  the  wood  had  harboured  a  wild  boar, 
An  ancient  solitary.     Back  and  forth, 
From  feed  to  lair,  from  lair  to  feed  again, 
With  help  of  hound  sagacious,  sure  of  scent, 
He'd  slotted  him.     A  monster  huge  he  was, 
Vast  as  a  bear,  with  tusks  most  terrible, 
Fierce  as  the  ancient  sanglier  ever  is. 
"Aye,  even  as  I  slotted  him  he  turned," 
So  quoth  the  greybeard  forester,  "and  drove 
Me  and  my  limehound  from  his  leafy  lair. 
But  safely  is  he  harboured  now,  and  I 
Can  put  the  hounds  upon  him  easily." 

IX 

Then  gaily  Giselher  wound  his  hunting  horn, 
And  straightway  he  and  Hagen  to  the  spot 
Rode  where  the  ancient  sanglier  lay  concealed, 
And  with  them  went  the  huntsmen  and  the 

hounds : 

And  to  a  sunny  glade  some  distance  off 
Rode  Sigurd  and  young  Gernot,  there  to  wait 
The  boar  when  he  broke  covert:  and  ere  long 


154  Andvari's  Ring 

Came  to  their  ears,  borne  down  the  wind,  a 

blast 
Triumphal,    through    the    greenwood    echoing 

shrill— 

The  horn  of  Hagen,  telling  that  the  hounds 
Had  roused  their  quarry  and  the  hunt  was  on. 


Now  toward  the  open  space  where  Sigurd  sat 
And  Gernot  on  their  steeds  the  distant  cry 
Seemed  moving  and  with  ready  spear  the  twain 
Waited  expectant.     Nearer  came  the  cry. 
Then    suddenly    they    beheld,    far    down    the 

glade, 
Swift    running    as    a    race-horse     toward     his 

goal, 

The  ancient  solitary  who,  in  a  trice, 
Turned  and  within  the  greenwood  disappeared. 
Too  thick  for  horse  the  tangled  forest  here; 
And  Sigurd,  from  his  steed  dismounting,  bound 
Bridle  to  tree  and,  winding  his  great  horn 
For  signal,  plunged  on  foot  into  the  wood. 
Gernot    him    followed;    and    the    dark-browed 

knight, 

Hagen,  soon  coming  up,  with  Giselher,  both 
Quickly  discarded  horse  and  sought  on  foot 
To  pierce  the  tangled  thickets  of  the  wood — 
By  baying  hounds  preceded  and  a  throng 
Of  huntsmen  followed,  hurrying  at  their  heels 


The  DeatK  of  Sigurd  155 

XI 

But  well  the  ancient  solitary  ran — 

Swiftly  and  wisely — and  right  valiantly 

He  fought  too,  when  occasion  called,  that  day. 

For  thrice,   when  brought  to  bay  by    furious 

hounds, 

He  charged  on  his  pursuers  and  or  slew 
Or  maimed  them,  and  three  times  he  got  away, 
And  the  third  time  he  made  good  his  escape 
And,  all  unspeared,  with  spirit  stout,  regained 
His  haunts  beneath  the  merry  greenwood  tree. 

XII 

And  in  the  afternoon  to  a  deep  glen 

Through  which,  with  soothing  purl,  a  brooklet 

ran, 

Came  Sigurd,  wearied  with  the  fruitless  chase, 
And  wandering  through  the  interminable  wood. 
And  up  against  a  linden  tree  his  spear 
He  leaned,  and  for  a  pillow  took  his  cloak, 
And  on  the  green  moss  of  the  wood  lay  down. 
And,  though  against  his  will,  soft-fingered  sleep 
Soon  closed  his  eyes.     So  wearied  out  was  he. 

XIII 

And  while  he  slept  came  also  to  the  glen 
(By  cruel  fate  inexorable  led) 
Hagen  and  Giselher  and,  with  startled  eyes, 
Beheld  their  quarry.     Thus  then  Hagen  spoke: 


156  Andvari's  Ring 

XIV 

"Lost  is  the  boar,  but  nobler  game  is  here! 
Behold  the  son  of  Sigmund  where  he  lies 
All  unaccoutred,  forage  for  our  spears ! 
What  sayst  thou,  shall  we  slay  him  as  he  sleeps?" 

XV 

Then  Giselher:     "I  have  heard  that  sharpest 

steel 

Pierces  him  not:  that  by  the  dragon's  blood 
Invulnerable  made,  he  laughs  at  spears." 


XVI 


To  him  then  Hagen :  ' '  Aye,  the  tale  is  true. 
When  the  black  blood  of  Fafnir  covered  him, 
What  time  he  crouched  within  the  narrow  pit 
And,  with  an  upward  thrust,  the  dragon's  hide 
Pierced,   and  his  sword  went  onward  to    the 

heart, 

Forthwith  invulnerable  he  became. 
Yet,  ne'ertheless,  I'll  wager  my  good  spear, 
Dragvandil,  could  right  quickly  finish  him. 
However,  to  our  story  let's  return. 
One  spot  alone  is  human.     In  one  place 
Only  can  enter  the  death-dealing  dart. 
Betwixt  his  shoulders  had  a  linden  leaf 
Fallen,  while  in  the  narrow  pit  he  stood, 


The  DeatK  of  Sigxird  157 

Waiting,  and  when  the  blood  of  Fafnir  bathed 
Head,  limbs  and  trunk,  the  spot  where  lay  the 

leaf, 

Alone  of  all  his  frame,  remained  untouched. 
This  from  Gudrun,  in  confidence,  I  heard; 
Who  on  his  kirtle  hath  a  linden  leaf, 
Masked    in    a    quaint    design  of  branch  and 

twig, 

Embroidered,  covering  the  spot  exact; 
She  in  her  innocence  beseeching  me 
To    guard    that    spot    as    it    were    my    own 

heart. 

Thus  foolish,  Giselher,  are  all  womankind. 
But  let  us  to  our  task.     Ha!    He  awakes." 

XVII 

"Ho!    Hagen!    Giselher!    You  here?    Havel 

slept?" 

Thus  Sigurd,  rising  from  his  mossy  couch. 
"An  empty  chase  we've  had,  in  truth!     Right 

well 

Our  foe,  the  ancient  sanglier,  played  his  game. 
But  see  how  cool  yon  rivulet  which  runs 
Adown  the  dusky  glen !    How  crystal  clear 
It  sparkles !     Like  a  merry  mountain  nymph 
Methinks  it  is,  and  like  her  laughter  gay 
Its  rippling  voice  doth  call  me.     Thirsty  am  I, 
And  from  those  waters  sweet  fain  would     I 

drink." 


158  Andvari's  Ring 

XVIII 

So  saying,  toward  the  brook  he  strode  and  knelt 

Upon  its  sandy  border  with  intent 

To    quaff    from    the    cool    wave    unmeasured 

draughts ; 

Which  seeing,  Hagen,  with  a  stealthy  step 
(While  Giselher  stood  a  partner  to  the  deed) 
Came  up  behind  and,  lifting  high  in  air 
His   spear,    and   crying,    "Strike   home,  Drag- 

vandil!"  drave 

Betwixt  his  victim's  shoulders  the  bright  steel. 
Swift  through  the  broidered  linden  leaf  it  made 
Its  fatal  way,  seeking  the  hero's  heart. 
Alas!     What  grievous  wound  hath  Sigurd  now? 
No  word  he  uttered,  only  a  deep  groan 
Of  purest  anguish,  as  upon  the  sand, 
Bleeding,  he  sank.     Then  straight  his  spirit  rose 
From  that  rent  body  to  Valhalla's  halls. 
So,  by  the  hand  of  murderer  base — a  deed 
Savage  and  senseless,  born  of  envy — died 
The  son  of  Sigmund,  noblest  of  mankind. 

XIX 

Now  as  beside  the  rivulet  the  corse 
Of  Sigurd  lay,  all  bathed  in  precious  blood, 
Into  that  place  of  death  young  Gernot  came. 
He,  like  the  others,  through  the  wood  had  sought, 
Vainly,  the  ancient  sanglier,  and  this  glen 
Chancing  upon  he  entered  and  beheld, 


TKe  DeatH  of  Sigxird  159 

At" first  with  eyes  which  comprehended  not, 
The  corse  of  Sigurd  and,  standing  near  by, 
Grasping  within  his  hand  a  blood-stained  spear, 
The  giant  form  of  Hagen.     Demon  like 
The  murderer  gazed  upon  his  victim.     Then 
Flashed  on  the  soul  of  Gernot  the  dread  truth, 
And,  striding  toward  the  dark-browed  knight, 

he  raised 
His  spear  as  if  to  strike  him.     "Devil!"  he 

cried, 
"What   hast  thou  done?"     But  flinched   the 

other  not. 

"  The  false  seducer  of  thy  brother's  wife 
I  slew."     Thus  Hagen.     "  Fitter  had  it  been 
If  thou,  thyself,  had  done  it,  but  the  deed 
On  me  devolved."     "Thou  liest ! "  Gernot  cried, 
"  I  know  the  wretched  tale.     Baseless  it  is. 
And  minded  am  I  at  this  minute  to  strike 
Thee  dead  beside  thy  victim.     But  what  good? 
Sigurd  is  gone.     His  light  hath  left  this  world. 
And  though  a  thousand  Hagens  spilled  their 

blood, 

It  would  not  bring  him  back  again.     Alas! 
Alas!    Alas!     That  such  a  dastard  deed 
Should  be  permitted  by  the  righteous  heavens!" 


He  ceased  and,  by  the  body  of  his  friend 
Kneeling,  to  staunch  the  crimson  current  strove ; 


160  Andvari's  Ring 

Then  bathed  with  water  from  the  brook  the  face 
And  hands  of.  the  pale  corse  (still  warm  with  life 
But  growing  cold  in  death)  and  o'er  the  face 
Spread  gently  a  blue  cloak,  and  laid  the  limbs 
Orderly,  and  in  every  manner  sought 
To  make  less  terrible  the  ghastly  sight. 
While  to  the  dead  these  gentle  offices 
He  tendered,  with  a  soft  as  woman's  touch, 
Tears  uncontrollable  suffused  his  eyes. 
But  ruthless  stood  the  two  conspirators. 
Cold  as  those  others  who,  in  Roman  halls 
(What  time  their  hands  had  dragged  the  eagle 

down), 
Watched,   all   unmoved,   the   murdered   Julius 

die. 


XXI 


Now   from   the   wood   the   sounds   of  hunting 

horns, 

Nearer  approaching,  came;  and  Giselher,  them 
Noting,  a  blast  responsive  blew,  and  soon 
Appeared  within  the  dusky  glen  a  group 
Of  huntsmen,  glad  their  masters  to  rejoin. 
To   whom   then   Giselher   thus:     "A   dreadful 

thing, 
My  men,  hath  happened.     Through  the  forest's 

depths 

Seeking  the  solitary  boar,  we  three, 
My  brother  Gernot,  Hagen  and  myself, 


The  DeatK  of  Sigxird  161 

Chanced  on  this  gloomy  glen,  and  here,  beside 
Yon  streamlet  lying,  as  ye  see  him  now, 
Earl  Sigurd  found.     Covered  he  was  with  blood, 
Which  from  a  great  wound  in  his  body  flowed. 
Almost   his   breath   had   ceased.     Quickly   we 

strove 

To  staunch  the  crimson  current  and  to  bring 
His  spirit  back  to  earth.     But  'twas  in  vain. 
Methinks  the  boar,  catching  him  unawares, 
Hath  charged  upon  him  and  its  mighty  tusks 
Driven  into  his  heart.     Perchance  he  slept, 
Overcome  by  the  long  chase,  and  in  his  sleep 
The  sanglier  found  and  slew  him.     Who  can 

tell? 

One  duty  have  we  now.     One  thing  alone 
Remains  to  do:  To  bear  the  pallid  corse 
Back  to  his  wife — our  sister.     From  this  wood 
Our  arms  shall  sadly  carry  him,  and  thence 
A  wain  shall  bear  his  body  to  the  Rhine." 

XXII 

So  to  the  foresters  the  second  son 

Of  old  King  Dancrat  spake,  with  solemn  mien 

Dexterously  dissembling;  and  forthwith 

A  litter  of  stout  beechen  boughs  they  made, 

And  on  it  placed,  wrapped  in  his  cloak  of  blue, 

The  corse  of  Sigurd,  and  two  foresters, 

One  at  his  head,  one  at  his  feet,  him  bore 

From  out  the  wood,  preceded  by  the  rest 

IX 


162  Andvari's  Ring' 

Marching  with  mournful  tread,  and  followed 

slow 

By  the  two  royal  brothers  and  that  knight 
Whose  name  henceforth,  through  cycles  long  of 

time, 
The  stain  of  this  base  murder  was  to  bear. 


XVI 

BESIDE  THE  RHINE 


Now  on  the  banks  of  Rhine  a  funeral  pyre 
Did  Sigurd's  vikings  rear,  and  on  it  placed — 
Robed  in  rich  garb,  and  wearing  winged  helm 
And  byrnie  bright,  as  if  for  battle  drest — 
The  body  of  their  chief ;  and  by  his  side 
His  sword  they  would  have  laid,  that  wondrous 

brand 

Which  Odin  from  Valhalla's  halls  had  brought 
To  Volsung's  son  and  later  Regin's  skill, 
Welding  the  mystic  shards,  had  forged  anew ; 
But  them  Gudrun  besought  with  flowing  tears 
To  grant  it  her,  last  relic  of  her  lord; 
So  into  her  fair  hands  was  Gram  bestowed. 

II 

For  when  the  pyre  was  ready  and  from  out 
Gudrun's  dark  bower  the  silent  Scandians  bore 
The  corse  of  Sigurd  Jarl,  them  close  behind, 
A  black-veiled,  faltering  figure,  came  Gudrun, 
163 


1 64  Andvari's  Ring 

Followed  by  weeping  damsels  of  her  bower. 

And  came  also  unto  the  banks  of  Rhine 

The  king,  begirt  with  knights;  and  the  pale 

queen, 

Brynhild,  the  valkyr,  by  her  damosels 
Attended;  and  the  brothers  of  the  king, 
Giselher  and  Gernot;  and  that  warrior  grim, 
Hagen  yclept,  of  evil  all  compact, 
The  ruthless  instrument  of  cruel  fate. 
And  likewise  came  a  motley  multitude 
Of  divers  sorts,  soldiers  and  citizens, 
Rough  farmers  with  their  wives  and  progeny, 
And  lads  and  lassies  in  life's  April  still, 
All  flocking  to  the  banks  of  Father  Rhine, 
There  to  behold  the  Norseman's  obsequies. 
And  when  beside  the  flood  his  vikings  laid 
Their  chieftain's  body,  ere  upon  the  pyre 
They  placed  it  and  the  funeral  flame  applied, 
Forth  glided  from  among  her  maids  Gudrun, 
And  by  the  bier,  like  a  swift-moving  wraith, 
Sank  down,  and  round  the  lifeless  body  claspt 
Her  beauteous  arms,  as  if  she  wildly  sought 
To  summon  back,  by  love  importunate, 
Into  that  broken  vessel  cold,  erstwhile 
Its  dwelling  place,  her  lord's  departed  ghost. 
And  thus,  beside  the  bier  burst  forth  Gudrun: 

in 

"Dark,   dark   my   life!     What  now  to    me   is 
earth? 


Beside  tKe  RKine  165 

What  now  the  beauteous  Rhine,  upon  whose 

banks 

While  love  sang  in  the  tree-tops,  once  we  walked? 
Thrice  poignant  is  my  pain  as  on  each  spot 
Made  sacred  by  our  happiness  I  gaze ! 
Here  once  was  mine  joy  inexpressible ! 
Here  now,  alas,  with  anguish  bleeds  my  heart ! 
Woe  lays  on  me  his  heavy  hand  and  Grief 
Invests  my  spirit  with  his  inky  pall. 
Gone,    gone    my    love!    Gone,    gone    earth's 

noblest  soul ! 
Fair  font   from   which   life-giving  draughts   I 

drank! 

Gone  are  those  eyes  which  lit  for  me  the  world! 
That  voice  whose  music  did  my  heart  enthral! 
Those  lips  from  which  sweet  sustenance  I  drew! 
Gone    is   my   mate — within   whose    arms   was 

heaven — 

My  other  half.     For  like  a  noble  tree 
We  grew,  one  substance,  till  an  angry  bolt 
Of  lightning  rent  our  wedded  life  in  twain; 
And  on  the  ground  he  lies,  blackened  and  dead, 
And  I,  the  other  half,  live  on  alone, 
Yet  scarcely  live,  a  mutilated  shape, 
Standing  upon  the  melancholy  wold, 
To  bear  my  cruel  scars  until  the  end." 

IV 

She  ceased  and,  kneeling  still  beside  the  bier, 
Kissed  o'er  and  o'er  again  the  lifeless  lips 


166  Andvari's  Ring 

Of  that  which  was  her  loving  husband  once — 
The  pallid  clay  where  once  the  spirit  dwelt. 
Then  on  his  bosom,  weeping,  bowed  her  head. 
And  o'er  the  bier  her  tresses,  loosed  in  woe, 
Swept  like  a  golden  coverlet  to  the  ground. 


Then  from  the  Norsemen's  midst  a  figure  tall 
Of  noble  aspect,  helmeted,  and  drest 
In  raiment  rich,  befitting  his  high  rank, 
Strode    slowly    forth,    and     stood    before    the 

king— 

Hakon  the  son  of  Halfdan,  of  the  Bear 
The  captain,  and  the  warrior  upon  whom, 
Earl  Sigurd  being  dead,  command  devolved. 
And  thus,  while  on  his  every  accent  hung 
The  vast  assemblage,  Gunter  he  addressed: 

VI 

"Sad  are  our  hearts,  O  King!     Us  have  the 

Norns 
A  blow  o'erpowering  dealt.     And  though,  like 

men, 

We  strive  to  bear  the  bufferings  of  Fate, 
Yet  like  this  weeping  widow's  is  our  woe. 
Sigurd  is  dead !     Slain  is  the  blameless  one ! 
The  noble  son  of  Sigmund  is  no  more! 
The  flower  of  all  the  North  has  passed  away! 


Beside  tKe  RKine  167 

VII 

"Strange  doth  it  seem  to  us  who  knew  him  well 
That  he  could  have  an  enemy,  that  in  all 
This  world  of  men  lived  one  who  loved  him  not. 
And  yet  it  must  be  so.     His  gaping  wound 
Promulgates  unto  all  the  dreadful  truth. 
Foul  murder  hath  been  done.     By  hand  of  man 
He  fell,  and  not  by  tusk  of  the  wild  boar. 
By  dastard  spear  and  not  in  honest  strife. 
But  to  the  perpetrator  of  this  crime 
We  hold  no  clue.     If  'twere  not  so,  if  we 
Could   name   the   assassin,   swiftly   should   his 

blood 

Atonement  make;  e'en  though  each  one  of  us 
Thereafter  died,  all  falling  where  we  fought. 

VIII 

"Yet  thee,  King  Gunter,  do  we  guiltless  hold; 
Knowing  that  thou  didst  love  him  like  ourselves; 
Knowing  that  on  thy  spirit  sorrow  sits, 
As  on  the  souls  of  each  of  us,  a  bird 
Gigantic,  shutting  out  the  air  and  light; 
Knowing  that  thou  wilt  mourn  him  till  the  end. 

IX 

"Farewell!    When  we  to  his  beloved  corse 
Have  paid  our  final  homage,  and  the  rites 
Ordained  by  the  Immortals  have  performed, 


168  Andvari's  Ring' 

And  in  the  flame  hath  vanished  his  dear  clay, 
Down  the  swift  Rhine,  from  out  thy  realm,  O 

King, 

We'll  pass,  and  thou  shalt  see  us  never  more. 
Back  to  our  Northland  ocean-haunted,  back 
To  that  gray  Scandia  whence  we  came,  we'll  go. 
Aye ,  homesick  is  my  heart !     Farewell ,  farewell ! ' ' 


He  ceased  and,  from  the  presence  of  the  king 
Withdrawing,  joined  once  more  his  mariners, 
Bidding  them  place  the  body  on  the  pyre. 
Then  was  it  that  Gudrun  the  chief  besought 
To  grant  her  Gram,  last  relic  of  her  lord, 
That  wondrous  brand  which   Odin  once  had 

grasped. 
So  into  her  fair  hands  was  Gram  bestowed. 


XI 


Now  when  upon  the  lofty  pyre  was  laid 
The  corse  of  Sigurd,  ere  the  funeral  flame, 
Which  changeth  clay  to  ashes,  had  been  lit, 
Forth  from  her  ladies  came,  with  stately  step 
(While  wonderment  the  vast  assemblage  held), 
Brynhild  the  valkyr,  Gunter's  haughty  queen, 
And  standing  by  the  fateful  pyre  thus  spoke : 


Beside  the  Rhine  169 

XII 

"Hakon,  thy  words  are  wise.     Like  thine  my 

heart 

Homesick  doth  languish.     As  an  eagle  caged 
Doth  ever  of  the  boundless  mountains  dream, 
So  dream  I  ever  of  my  valkyr  days. 
Life  here  to  me  is  naught:  aye,  worse  than 

naught. 

As  to  that  captive  eagle,  though  his  cage 
Be  golden,  death  doth  come  as  a  release, 
So  to  my  soul  comes  death  a  sweet  release. 
When,   freed  from  earthly   bonds,   my  happy 

ghost 

Hath  risen  to  Valhalla,  there  these  eyes 
My  father  Odin  shall  behold  once  more. 
There  waits  he  me.     There,  as  in  bygone  days, 
His  loving  arms  shall  fold  me  to  his  breast. 
My  fault  forgiven.     Expiation  done." 


XIII 


She  ceased  and,  with  uplifted  countenance, 
Gazed  at  the  heavens  for  a  little  space, 
As  though  her  eyes  beheld,  in  that  blue  dome, 
The  figure  of  her  father,  Odin  great, 
Standing  as  in  the  lonely  isle  he  stood, 
What  time  with  waving  spear  and  magic  rune 
(While  in  his  heart  reigned  grief  ineffable) 
He  wove  the  spell  about  her  and  the  flames , 


Andvari's  Ring 

Commanded  to  protect  her  from  all  harm. 
Thus  for  a  little  time  the  valkyr  stood. 
Then,  while  the  multitude  looked  on  with  awe, 
And  in  amaze  stood  Gunter  and  his  court, 
The  lofty  pyre  she  mounted  and,  beside 
The  corse  of  Sigurd  kneeling,  swiftly  drove 
A  diamond-hilted  dagger  to  her  heart. 

XIV 

Thus  passed  from  earth  into  Valhallan  air 
Brynhild,  that  daughter  whom  the  god  supreme 
Above  all  others  loved.     A  glorious  soul 
Clothed  in  the  beauty  of  the  starry  night. 

xv 

And  side  by  side  upon  the  lofty  pyre 
This  noble  twain  the  bearded  Norsemen  laid — 
Sigurd  and  Brynhild;  and  Earl  Hakon  bade 
The  logs  be  lighted,  and  a  mighty  flame, 
Fanned  by  the  wind,  sprang  up,  and  in  the 

flame 
Swiftly  their  mortal  bodies  were  consumed. 


INTERLUDE 

AWAKE,  ye  shapes  heroic,  once  again! 

Sigurd  hath  passed — and  Brynhild — and  above, 

In  high  Valhalla,  linger;  but  Gudrun 

And  all  the  race  Burgundian  still  remain 

And  walk  the  ways  of  earth ;  and  Hagen  base, 

With   blood-stained   spirit,   broods   beside   the 

Rhine. 

And  lo,  on  Hungary's  plains,  where  now  doth  sit 
Vienna  fair,  behold  a  motley  mass 
Mongolian,  of  great  Attila  the  hordes. 
Him  likewise  sing,  O  Muse,  for  though  uncouth 
Of  body,  in  his  Orient  soul  the  flame 
Of  genius  dwelt,  and  the  fierce  instrument 
Of  Fate  he  was  our  Sigurd  to  avenge. 


171 


BooK  II.     Jtttlla 


173 


I 

HAGEN  AND  ANDVARI 


"  SIGURD  is  dead.     The  Niblung's  Ring  is  mine. 
Far  from  these  shores  the  wandering  Norsemen 

now. 

Pestiferous  crew.     Save  that  this  magic  Ring 
They've  left  me,  I  could  wish  their  gold-prowed 

ships, 

Their  sailors  rude  and  captains  insolent, 
Had  ne'er  disturbed  the  peace  of  Burgundy. 
But    hist!    To    the    point!    The    Ring!    The 

Niblung's  Ring ! 

Ha!  Ha!  How  like  a  talisman  rare  indeed, 
A  wonder-working  thing  beyond  compare, 
It  shines  upon  my  hand.     Thou  circlet  bright, 
Thou  baleful  serpent  with  the  ruby  eyes, 
Now  will  I  test  thy  vaunted  potency! 
Appear,  Andvari,  servant  of  the  Ring! 
Appear,  thou  Niblung  knave,  thy  master  calls!" 

II 

Thus  Hagen,  by  the  swiftly-rushing  Rhine 
(What  time  the  midnight  brooded  o'er  the  earth) 
i75 


176  Andvari's  Ring 

Communed  with  his  dark  soul.     Then  swiftly 

raised 
The  glittering  circlet  to  his  bearded  lips. 


in 


As  through  the  air  a  radio  message  flies, 
Needing  no  wire,  by  Nature's  laws  propelled, 
So  through  the  midnight,  to  the  Niblung's  cave, 
This  message  of  the  knight  Burgundian  flew, 
Now  the  possessor  of  the  magic  Ring. 
And  by  a  power  occult  the  Niblung  dwarf, 
A  wizard  skilful,  mounted  to  the  sky, 
And,  like  a  bird,  the  silent  ether  clove, 
Bending  his  swift  flight  toward  the   German 

land. 
Soon  o'er  the  Rhine  he  hovered;  then,  like  a 

hawk 

Gigantic,  swooping  suddenly  on  his  prey, 
Descended  and  the  haughty  Hagen  faced. 


IV 


"Who  calleth  me?    Who  art  thou  that  the  Ring 
Possesseth?     In  the  cavern  where  I  toil, 
I  and  my  gnomes,  by  the  far  Northern  sea, 
I  heard  thy  call  and  came.     Nay,  not  from  choice 
I  came,  but  at  the  summons  of  the  Ring. 
Who  art  thou,  swarthy  shape?     Methinks  the 
gem 


Hag  en  and  Andvari  177 

Unwittingly  hath  worked  its  curse,  and  crime 
Hath  been  committed.     Sigurd,  where  is  he  ? 
How  earnest  thou  by  this  Ring?     Thou  that  dost 

show 

Sigurd  beside,  as  shows  the  gloomy  night 
Beside  the  golden  ever-beauteous  morn. 
Methinks  thy  hands  with  Sigurd's  blood  are 

red." 


Thus  scornful  spake  the  Niblung  and  to  him 
Hagen,  with  accents  furious,  thus  replied: 

VI 

"Cease,  dwarf,  thy  idle  talk.     What  is't  to  thee 
If  Sigurd  lives  or  dies?     What  is't  to  thee 
Whose  finger  wears  the  Ring  since  'tis  not  thine  ? 
All    else    is    naught.     Why    then    this    empty 

noise? 
He  rules  the  world  who  holds  the  Niblung's 

Ring. 

The  treasures  of  that  vast  abode  are  his — 
The  unmined  metals  of  the  Niblung's  cave — 
Riches  incalculable.     This  well  thou  knowest. 
All — all  unto  the  mystic  Ring  belong. 
Whence  comes  that  power  we  know  not,  but  we 

know — 

I,  thou,  and  all  men — that  the  Ring's  command — 
Implacable  as  Fate — must  be  obeyed. 


178  Andvari's  Ring 

Bring  forth  thy  gold  then,  that  my  hungry  eyes 
May  with  each  glittering  coin  disport  them 
selves." 

VII 

"Hagen  thou  art.     I  know  thee  now.     A  name 
Accurst  forevermore.     Yet  to  the  Ring 
I  yield  because  I  must.     Would  that  once  more 
It  shone  upon  my  hand !     Alas !     Alas ! 
Perchance  some  day  a  woman's  palm  may  hold 
This  stolen  circlet  and  a  woman's  heart, 
That  prizes  love  and  justice  more  than  gold, 
May  give  it  back  to  me.     What  wouldst  thou 
have?" 

VIII 

Thus,  sorrowing,  spoke  Andvari ;  and  to  him 
Hagen,  the  knight  Burgundian,  thus  replied: 

IX 

"What   would   I   have?    A   galley  filled  with 

gold. 

A  ship  with  treasure  laden.     Aye,  not  one, 
But  many  ships.     To  thy  far  distant  North 
Fain  would  I  go,  myself,  if  youth  were  mine, 
And  see  with  mine  own  eyes  that  wondrous 

Hoard. 
But    now?     It    ne'er   can    be.     Come,    mystic 

dwarf, 


Hagen  and  Andvari  179 

A  bargain  let  us  make.     Every  five  years 
A  galley  filled  with  treasure  shalt  thou  send 
From  Thule's  shores  to  Burgundy.     Thy  gnomes, 
To  whom  the  secrets  of  the  earth  and  air 
And  ocean  vast  are  as  an  open  book, 
Shall  man  the  bark  and  o'er  the  boreal  seas 
Shall  bring  the  treasure  safely  to  the  Rhine. 
I'll  trust  them,  if  they  come  by  thy  command. 
Easy  it  is  if  thou  dost  say  the  word." 


To  whom  the  dwarf,  with  scornful  voice,  replied : 
"Greedy  as  ancient  Hreidmar's  is  thy  soul; 
Greedy  as  Fafnir's;  and  like  theirs  shall  be 
Thy  wretched  end.     Much  gold  hath  made  thee 

mad. 

But  'tis  the  Norns'  decree;  those  sisters  fair 
Who  high  above  the  gods  of  Asgard  sit, 
Rose-garlanded,  in  snowy  samite  gowned, 
Sweet  music  singing,  yet  implacable. 
By   them   my   prayer   was   heard — my   bitter 

curse — 

By  them  'twas  justified;  and  though  they  loved 
Bright  Sigurd,  yet  the  tainted  gold  he  held, 
And  on  him,  blind  as  one  of  Nature's  laws, 
The  ancient  curse  descended  and  he  fell. 
But  thou,  who  didst  the  son  of  Sigmund  slay — 
The  flower  of  all  the  North — with  dastard  hand, 
Robber  and  murderer  base  art  thou  in  one; 


i8o  Andvari's  Ring 

And  if  at  aught  they  can  rejoice,  those  Norns, 
Who  do  but  execute,  with  heart  unmoved, 
And  smiling  lip,  inexorable  law, 
Rejoice    they  will   when   thou  dost  meet  thy 

doom. 

Aye,  aye,  the  ships  I'll  send;  but  ere  the  first 
Quinquenniad    close    methinks    thy    cumbrous 

form, 

Hateful  to  all  men,  will  have  passed  away. 
Already,  in  that  desolate  abode 
Where  dwells  the  evil-doer  after  death, 
Pale  Hela,  goddess  of  the  underworld, 
Hath  marked  thee  for  her  own  and  doth  devise 
Pains  punitive  thy  many  crimes  to  fit. 
Aye,  whither  couldst  thou  go  if  not  to  her 
Whose  province  is  the  punishment  of  sin? 
Valhalla    wants    thee     not,     thou    monstrous 

soul. 
There    only    dwell    the    good,    the    wise,    the 

great, 

Companions  of  the  bright  and  blessed  gods. 
But  thou,  of  every  evil  thing  compact, 
Downward  thy  ghost  shall  wander  to  its  place. 
Upon  that  shadowy  highway  which  descends, 
Through  depths  terrene,  to  Hela's  drear  abode 
(What  time  thy  soul,  by  the  avenger's  sword, 
Is  parted  from  its  clay),  upon  that  road, 
Perchance  with  trembling  malefactors  chained, 
There  next  I'll  see  thee,  Hagen,  and  my  voice 
Shall  hail  thee  ere  the  gates  behind  thee  close." 


Hagen  and  Andvari  181 


XI 


So  saying,  through  the  gloomy  ether  rose 

(As  rises  into  air  an  eagle  vast) 

The  Niblung  dwarf,  and  soon  was  lost  to  sight. 


XII 


But  Hagen  only  laughed,  like  Hreidmar  old 
And  Fafnir,  and,  upon  the  fatal  Ring 
Gazing  with  greedy  exultation,  cried: 
"The  gold  is  mine — at  last  the  gold  is  mine." 


II 

GUDRUN'S    LAMENT 


Now  mourned  Gudrun  for  Sigurd  many  days — 
Days,  months  and  years — and  when  three  years 

had  passed 

Still,  to  her  heart,  it  seemed  but  yesternight 
Since  home  they  brought  her  gallant  warrior 

dead. 

But  whether  dead  from  accident  or  plot, 
Through  hand  of  man  or  tusk  of  boar,  by  speai/ 
Of  murderer  base,  or  terrible  assault 
Of  wild  beast  fiercely  fighting  for  his  home, 
She  knew  not.     Only  this  her  spirit  knew, 
That  he  who  once  was  hers,  was  hers  no  more 
(Not  hers,  at  least,  in  earth's  habiliments, 
Though  oft  she  seemed  to  feel  his  presence  near) : 
That  husbandless  she  dwelt.     One  joy  alone 
Lighted  her  life,  an  infant  posthumous, 
A  baby  boy  with  Sigurd's  golden  hair, 
And  Sigurd's  eyes,  and  Sigurd's  loving  ways, 
And  on  this  boy  were  centred  all  her  thoughts, 
And  round  him  all  her  hopes  and  fears  revolved, 
182 


Gxidrvin's   Lament  183 

E'en  as  the  planets  circle  round  the  sun. 
And  when,  at  night,  within  her  silent  room, 
She  knelt  in  prayer,  communing  with  the  realms 
Celestial,  seeking  surcease  of  her  woe, 
Oft  did  it  seem  to  her  that  Sigurd  stood 
Beside  her,  and  full  comforted  she  rose, 
Strengthened  in  spirit  from  her  orisons. 
And  thus,  as  by  her  sleeping  babe  she  knelt, 
She  sought  communion  with  the  loved  and  lost. 


ii 


"Dear  one,  where  art  thou  gone,  who  once  with 

me, 
In    happier    days,    abode?     In    what    bright 

heaven 

Where  gods  and  goddesses  immortal  dwell, 
And  golden  halls  celestial  greet  the  eye, 
Dwellst  thou,  my  Sigurd?     Or  in  what  fair  land 
Elysian,  where  the  good  and  great  of  earth, 
After  the  toils  and  troubles  of  this  world, 
Wander  in  meadows  sweet  of  asphodel, 
Abidest  thou?    Ah,  though  fair  that  land  may 

be, 
Though  fair  and  sweet,   I  know  to  thee  'tis 

naught 

Gudrun  without — without  thy  loving  wife. 
Or,  perad venture,  still  thy  gentle  ghost 
Beside  me  dwells,  refusing  to  be  gone, 
Protecting  me  as  in  the  days  of  old? 


1 84  Andvari's  Ring 

I  know  not — oil  is  mystery — for  SL  wall 

Hides  from  our  eyes  the  world  beyond  the  grave. 

And  yet,  methinks,  though  by  this  earthly  sight 

Unseen,  and  by  these  earthly  ears  unheard, 

Oft  do  our  loved  ones  visit  us,  and  oft 

The  immortal  soul  doth  with  its  mate  commune. 

Ah,  how  could  it  be  otherwise  when  love 

Hath  made  two  spirits  one?     Perchance,  e'en 

now, 

My  Sigurd,  though  bereft  of  earthly  frame, 
Hears  me  and  kneels  beside  me  as  of  old?" 

in 

Thus,  mourning  for  her  husband,  prayed  Gudrun. 


Ill 

CLAUDIUS 


CLAUDIUS,  the  Roman,  of  great  Attila 
The  envoy,  waited  at  King  Gunter's  court; 
Sent  hither  by  the  imperial  Hun  to  seek 
The  hand  in  marriage  of  the  fair  Gudrun; 
But,  up  till  now,  though  thrice  ten  days  had 

passed, 
All  unavailing  seemed  his  every  plea. 

II 

How  came  a  noble  Roman,  groomed  with  care, 
And  proud  of  race,  and  skilled  in  phrase  polite, 
To  be  the  envoy  of  the  barbarous  Hun? 

in 

Captured  in  battle  was  he  and  condemned 
To  cruel  death;  but  Attila,  by  chance, 
Beheld  him,  and  within  that  savage  breast 
Pity  upsprang,  to  kill  a  youth  so  fair; 
So  freed  he  was  from  fetters  and  became 
185 


1 86  Andvari's  Ring 

A  son,  almost,  of  the  wild  potentate. 
For  Claudius,  filled  with  gratitude,  drew  near 
To  Attila  in  spirit  and  discerned 
(Holp  by  the  lamp  of  close  companionship) 
Beneath  the  outer  mask  the  inner  man, 
Beneath  the  warrior's  will  the  dreamer's  mood, 
Beneath  the  nomad's  helm  the  monarch's  mind, 
And  clave,  through  thick  and  thin,  to  Attila. 
And  thrice,  in  furious  battle,  did  he  save 
His  master's  life,  and  oft  in  camp  and  court 
From  the  assassin's  hidden,  snake-like  blade, 
Him  shielded,  watching  all  men  like  a  lynx. 
And  Attila,  begirt  with  crafty  spies, 
And  would-be  murderers — all  the  network  base 
Which  seeks  to  trap  the  ruler  of  a  realm — 
Madmen,  fanatics,  wild  adventurers, 
Villains  gold-bought,  deemed  only  Claudius  true, 
Whom  all  the  wealth  of  Indus  could  not  bribe, 
And  loved  him  more  and  more  and,  in  the  end, 
Trusted  the  Roman  and  none  other  soul. 


IV 


Now  in  his  tent  beside  the  Danube  sat 

The  Hunnish  king  and,  near  at  hand,  with  style 

And  tablets  busy,  Claudius  silent  worked — 

Scribe,  counsellor  and  diplomat  in  one. 

And  ever  and  anon  his  task  he  ceased 

For  converse  with  the  king,  and  then  went  on. 

And  now,  the  writing  finished,  Attila  called 


Claudius  187 

For  Roman  wine  and,  while  they  drank,  to  them 
Otho,  a  Gothic  harper,  sang  and  played. 


Many  his  themes,  but  most  of  all  he  sang 
Sigurd,  the  son  of  Sigmund,  and  his  deeds — 
Pride  of  the  Volsung  race — flower  of  the  North ; 
And  how  he  Fafnir  slew,  the  dragon  fierce, 
And  made  the  Niblung's  mighty  Hoard  his  own; 
And  won  the  mystic  Ring  that  rules  the  Hoard ; 
And  sought,  through   circling  fire,  the  valkyr 

maid, 

Brynhild,  whom  Odin,  father  of  the  gods, 
Above  all  others  loved;  and  how,  returned 
To  Burgundy,  the  lily  maid  Gudrun 
He  wedded,  sister  of  a  noble  king; 
And  how,  at  last,  deep  in  the  Odenwald, 
Slain  by  a  boar,  he  fell;  but  ah,  perchance 
'Twas  not  a  boar,  but  envious  enemies 
Who  laid  him  low.     So  all  the  people  said. 
Dark  enemies  who  slew  him  as  the  night 
Blots  out  the  golden  vivifying  sun. 
Thus  sang  that  Gothic  minstrel,  from  his  harp 
Plucking,  meanwhile,  a  weird  accompaniment. 


VI 


Then  Attila:  "Whence  gottest  thou  this  tale, 
Harper?     Methinks  'tis  strange  yet  beautiful!" 


188  Andvari's  Ring 

VII 

And  Otho  answered:  "At  King  Gunter's  court, 

In  Burgundy,  beside  the  silvery  Rhine. 

Here  still  his  sister  dwells,  the  fair  Gudrun, 

The  lily  Princess  of  a  saddened  realm, 

With  one  bright  boy,  and  mourns  her  murdered 

mate. 

For  murdered  do  I  think  he  was,  my  liege, 
Slain  not  by  tusk  of  boar  but  spear  of  man." 

VIII 

And  Attila  the  minstrel  praised,  and  gold 
Gave  him,  and  low  he  bowed  before  the  king; 
Then  lifted  up  his  harp  and  from  the  tent 
Passed  out,  and  went  upon  his  wandering  way. 
But  though  no  more  that  bard  the  monarch  saw 
The  tale  remained,  nor  could  he  from  his  mind 
Dismiss  it.     Long  it  haunted  him.     At  last 
To   Claudius,   friend  and  counsellor,   thus  he 
spoke: 

IX 

"The  harper's  tale  doth  haunt  me.    In  my 

dreams 

I  see  the  noble  Sigurd  slain.     Methinks 
'Tis  true  what  say  the  folk.     Murdered  was  he. 
By  spear  of  man  and  not  by  tusk  of  boar 
He  perished  in  the  depths  of  Odenwald. 
By  the  just  gods,  this  kingly  hand  of  mine, 


Claudius  189 

Though  to  him  stranger,  shall  his  death  avenge; 
For  all  brave  men  are  brothers,  and  to  rid 
The  world  of  evil-doers  is  their  task. 
And    this    sweet    widow — better    'twere,    me- 

thinks, 

If  she  were  mine.     Another  arm  she  needs 
(Bright  Sigurd  being  gone)  her  to  protect, 
And  keep  at  bay  the  dastards  of  the  realm. 
For  this  I  fear,  if  Otho's  tale  be  true, 
The  hand  that  slew  her  husband  threatens  her." 


He  ceased,  and  on  the  yellow  Danube  gazed 
Silent  a  space,  then  suddenly  spoke  again : 
"In  thee,  alone,  my  Claudius,  do  I  trust. 
Go  thou  to  Burgundy,  to  Gunter's  court; 
Go  thou  and  say  that  Attila  the  Hun, 
Ruler  of  half  the  world  and  soon  to  be 
Ruler  of  all,  doth  seek  the  royal  hand 
Of  Gunter's  widowed  sister,  fair  Gudrun. 
Perchance  successful  wilt  thou  be,  perchance 
Not  so;  but  this  I  know,  that  if  the  thing 
Can  be  accomplished  thou,  and  thou  alone, 
Canst  do  it.     Go.     And  may  the  mystic  gods 
Who  rule  fair  women's  hearts,  grant  thee  sue- 


IV 
THE  APPARITION 


Now  as,  within  her  chamber,  prayed  Gudrun, 
At  midnight's  hour  (when  oft  the  dead  do  walk), 
Kneeling,  as  was  her  wont,  beside  her  babe, 
She  felt  a  presence  near  her  and  her  eyes 
Uplifting  she  beheld,  not  far  away, 
Drest  as  he  was  upon  that  fatal  morn 
When  last,  a  living  shape,  her  wifely  eyes 
Had  seen  him,  all  accoutred  for  the  chase, 
With  spear  in  hand,  the  figure  of  her  lord, 
Sigurd,  her  murdered  mate.     But  pallid  now 
That  soul-illumined  face,  by  sunny  locks 
Enframed,  and  sad  that  music-making  voice, 
Whose  accents  well  she  knew.     And  thus  he 
spoke : 


II 


"Dost  mourn  for  me  beloved?     Know  that  I 
Do  ever  dwell  beside  thee,  though  to  eyes 
Of  earth  invisible ;  know  that  my  arm 
190 


THe  Apparition  191 

Doth  ever  strive  to  guard  thee,  though  none  see 
Its  mystical  defence.     But  to  discourse 
With  earthly  voice,  as  men  and  women  do, 
To  speak  with  thee  as  in  the  days  gone  by, 
Is  seldom  granted  by  the  mighty  gods. 
Nor  is  it  oft  permitted  unto  souls 
Disbodied  and  cut  off  to  reappear 
Clothed  in  the  flesh  and  earth's  habiliments, 
E'en  as  they  lived  and  loved  and  strove  and 

fought. 

But  me  the  almighty  gods,  compassionate, 
Have  granted  this  rare  boon,  that  I  a  wrong 
Grievous  might  to  thy  innocent  ears  disclose, 
And,  peradventure,  might  by  timely  words 
Another  wrong,  thrice  dastardly,  avert. 
List !  list !    While  hunting  in  the  Odenwald 
(Hagen,  thy  brother  Giselher  and  myself) 
By  Hagen  was  I  slain,  his  treacherous  spear 
Piercing  the  vulnerable  spot  o'er  which, 
Upon  my  kirtle,  all  too  carefully, 
Thou,  with  thy  loving  hands,  a  linden  leaf 
Didst  broider.     All  approving  Giselher  stood, 
A  partner  to  the  deed.     But  not  of  him, 
Thy  brother,  will  I  speak.     The  mighty  gods, 
Themselves,  will  judge  his  perfidy,  not  I. 
But  Hagen,  base,  inhuman  wretch,  'tis  he 
My  lips,  e'en  from  the  spirit  world,  denounce. 
Me  having  slain  his  avaricious  hand 
Tore  from  my  fingers  cold  the  Niblung's  Ring, 
Which  long  his  heart  had  coveted.     This  ring 


192  Andvari's  Ring 

Still  doth  he  hold,  and  with  it  doth  control 

The  countless  treasures  of  the  Niblung  dwarf, 

Andvari,  of  whose  Hoard  these  lips  of  mine 

Have  often  told  thee.     Unto  thee  belongs, 

By  right,  this  Ring;  to  thee,  my  widow.     Yet 

Fearful  am  I  to  see  this  circlet  bright 

Upon  thy  hand,  Gudrun;  for  on  it  rests, 

As  well  thou  knowest,  Andvari's  dreadful  curse. 

So  let  it  go — it  and  its  baneful  gold. 

But  stopped  not  Hagen  here.     His  evil  soul 

More  wrong  contemplates,  and  to  slay  my  child, 

My  child  and  thine,  seeks  opportunity. 

Watch  therefore — watch   Gudrun,  and  to  the 

gods 

Unceasing  pray,  that  we  may  save  our  son, 
For  all  compact  of  evil  is  the  soul 
Of  Hagen,  and  in  every  evil  thing 
Delights — the  offspring  base,  abhorrible, 
Of  that  dark  spirit  whom  the  blessed  gods 
Banished  forever  from  the  realms  of  light — 
Loki,  to  whom  all  wickedness  is  good." 

in 

He  ceased  and,  ere  Gudrun  could  find  a  voice 

(For  motionless  in  silent  awe  she  knelt), 

Gone  was  he,  and  thrice  empty  seemed  the  room. 


GUDRUN'S    SOLILOQUY 


"HAGEN  my  husband's  murderer!    Is  it  strange 
My  heart  hath  ever  hated  him?     And  yet, 
Though  vague  suspicion  oft  did  point  that  way, 
The  deed  was  never  proved.     But  now  I  know. 
Sigurd,  my  darling,  time  it  was  to  speak. 
Thou  knewest  Hagen's  crime  and,  knowing  that, 
Thy  spirit  eyes  have   seen  where  mine  were 

blind. 

Thy  spirit  voice  hath  warned  me.     Now  I  see. 
For  Hagen,  fearing  if  his  crime  were  known 
My  tongue  would  rouse  the  people  into  wrath, 
Or  that  my  boy,  to  manhood  grown,  perchance 
Might  learn  the  dastard  story  and  revenge 
His  father's  murder,  fain  would  slay  us  both. 
But  even  if  he  nothing  feared,  still  true, 
As  in  past  centuries,  is  the  adage  old — 
1  The  injurer  ever  hates  the  injured  one, 
The    wronger    hates    the    one    whom    he    has 

wronged.' 
Girt  round  about  with  secret  enemies, 

13  193 


194  Andvari's  Ring 

With  dangers  unsuspected,  is  my  life. 

But  where  to  turn  for  safety?     Ah,  the  Hun! 

A    light    breaks    over    me!     As    his    wife — his 

queen — 
What  hand  could  harm  me— me  or  my  dear 

babe! 

Methinks  e'en  wicked  Hagen  would  be  foiled. 
Safe,  safe  I'd  be.     Safe,  safe.     Perchance  'tis 

this 

My  Sigurd  meant.     Methinks  his  spirit  hand 
Pointed  this  way.     Darling,  is  this  thy  wish? 
None  other  can  I  ever  love  but  thee, 
And  never  have  I  dreamed  of  other  mate, 
As   well   thou   knowest,    who   doth   know   my 

heart. 

But  Attila,  he  asks  not  love.     My  hand 
Alone  he  seeks,  as  sovereigns  ever  do. 
'No, '  hitherto  I've  said,  when  Claudius  sought 
An  answer  to  his  suit ;  but  now  my  mind 
Is   changed,    and  changed  the  current  of    my 

thought ; 
And  'Yes,'  tomorrow,  shall  my  answer  be." 

ii 

Thus  did  the  fair  Gudrun  with  her  own  soul 
Hold  colloquy,  seeking  to  save  her  son. 


VI 
ATTILA  AND  GUDRUN 


"WOULDST  know  my  life,  fair  bride?     I'll  tell 

it  thee. 

Sit  still,  and  while  thou  weavest  on  thy  loom, 
And  back  and  forth  thy  busy  fingers  move, 
My  lips  shall  weave  the  story  of  the  past." 

ii 

Thus  Attila  unto  the  fair  Gudrun 
As  in  her  bower  they  sat  —  none  other  near  — 
Nor  courtier  smooth,  nor  damsel  of  her  train. 
A  hanging  rare  with  divers  coloured  threads 
She  wrought,   whereon  her  husband's  mighty 

deeds, 

The  mighty  deeds  of  Attila  the  Hun, 
Were  broidered;  and,  as  busily  she  wrought, 
Unto  her  thus  the  royal  bridegroom  spoke: 

in 


" 


Knowest  thou  the  East?     My  spirit's  source 
is  there. 


196  Andvari's  Ring 

Knowest  thou  the  East?    There  is  my  spirit's 

home. 

In  that  far  land,  in  uttermost  Cathay, 
Behold  the  springs  from  which  I  draw  my  life! 
O'er  those  vast  plains  which  like  the  ocean  roll, 
Illimitable,  where  the  Peiho  threads 
His  winding  way,  and  flows  the  Sungari, 
O'er  those  vast  plains,  windswept  and  desolate, 
O'er  those  mid-Asian  wildernesses  dun, 
O'er  Gobi's  sands  and  by  the  blue  Baikal, 
For  centuries  did  my  Mongol  forbears  roam — 
Uncounted  generations — nomads  rude, 
Content,  ambit ionless — naught  knowing  save 
The  lore  of  flocks  and  herds, — of  sheep  and  goats, 
Of  horses  and  of  cattle;  till,  at  last, 
Dawned  a  new  day  momentous  when  they  sensed 
The  West ;  and  as  a  brightly  burning  lamp 
All  wandering  things  attracts,  so  Rome  drew 

them. 

Then  to  the  setting  sun  their  horses'  heads 
They  turned,  and  toward  the  sunset  each  day 

rode — 

A  million  horses  by  a  million  men 
Bestrode,  with  wives  and  bairns  a  million  more — 
A  million  men  and  horses  did  I  say? 
Nay,  many  millions,  a  host  uncountable — 
Thick  as  the  sands  on  Gobi's  desert  waste. 
A  motley,  slowly-moving  mass — a  swarm 
Of  locusts  swallowing  up  the  fertile  land 
And  leaving  desolation  in  their  wake, 


and  Gudrun  197 


A  horde  of  cruel  savages  unwashed. 

And  thus  they  rode  until  the  gates  of  Rome, 

After  long  years,  they  reached,  and  here  they 

stopped  — 

Here  where  the  yellow  Danube  barred  the  way. 
And  here,  beside  the  Danube,  was  I  born, 
One  of  two  brothers;  but  my  brother  died, 
Bleda  by  name,  and  I  was  king  acclaimed. 
And  hence  into  my  hands  the  Hunnish  realms 
Far-reaching  came,  for  from  the  Danube's  flood 
Eastward  they  stretch  unto  the  ends  of  the 

earth  — 

Cathay  the  flowery,  and  the  Orient  sea. 
For  here,  where  now  thou  sittest,  is  Hungary, 
The  land  of  the  Huns;  and  there,  just  over  there, 
Beyond  the  yellow  Danube's  rushing  flood, 
Is  Rome,  the  golden  mistress  of  the  world. 
Aye,  here  is  Hungary  and  there  is  Rome, 
And  swift  the  yellow  Danube  flows  between." 

IV 

He  ceased  a  little  space  and  then  went  on: 


"Strange  is  the  fate  which  hath  directed  us, 
The  fate  which  hath  our  lives  together  joined. 
The  East  and  West  do  meet  in  us,  Gudrun, 
Europe  art  thou  and  Asia  old  am  I, 
But,  East  or  West,  Love's  ways  are  all  the  same. 


198  Andvari's  Ring 

Thee  did  I  love  when  thou  wast  but  a  dream, 
A  vision  of  the  mind,  a  woeful  wraith, 
Born  of  a  wandering  harper's  tragic  tale, 
Who  Sigurd  sang,  and  his  untimely  end, 
And  that  sweet  widow,  crushed  and  desolate. 
Thee  did  I  love,  and  sought,  as  lovers  will, 
To  aid  thee  in  thy  danger  and  distress, 
And  therefore  sent  I  Claudius  to  thy  side. 
But  now  that  I  have  seen  thee  as  thou  art, 
How  fairer  than  an  angel's  is  thy  face, 
How  golden  as  the  sunshine  is  thy  hair, 
How  passing  sweet  thou  art,  how  beautiful, 
I  know  that  more  than  aught  else  in  this  world 
Thou  art  to  me.     Tell  me,  thou  dearest  one, 
Tell  me,  if  not  too  painful  to  thy  heart, 
And  fitting  seems  the  hour,  how  Sigurd  died." 

VI 

Thus  Attila,  and  thus  to  him  Gudrun: 

VII 

"Deep  in  the  Odenwald  he  died,  my  lord, 
Hunting  the  boar.     Aye,   home  they  brought 

him,  dead. 

Slain  by  the  boar,  they  said.     But  I— my  lord— 
I  think  not  so.     Slain  by  a  villain  base 
Was  he,  who  even  now  doth  seek  my  life, 
And  that  of  my  young  child— my  baby  boy. 
Prove  it  I  cannot — nay,  my  lord — and  yet 
Sure  am  I  as  I  live  that  this  is  so." 


Attila  and  Gxidrun  199 

VIII 

Thus  spoke  Gudrun.     Then,  to  her  husband's 

plea 

Yielding,  she  opened  all  her  stricken  heart, 
And  told  him  how,  as  in  her  bower  she  knelt, 
At  midnight,  had  the  ghost  of  Sigurd  come — 
A  pallid  wraith  from  out  the  spirit  world — • 
And  to  her  ears  the  dreadful  truth  disclosed. 
How,  as  within  the  deepest  Odenwald 
They  rested,  Hagen,  Giselher  and  himself, 
By  Hagen  was  he  slain,  the  treacherous  spear 
Piercing  the  vulnerable  spot  o'er  which, 
Upon  his  kirtle,  had  her  loving  hands 
A  linden  leaf  embroidered.     How,  well  pleased, 
Her  brother  stood,  a  partner  to  the  deed. 
How  from  the  hand  of  Sigurd,  e'en  ere  death 
Had  stilled  it,  Hagen  tore  the  Niblung's  Ring 
Enchanted — aye,  enchanted,  but  accurst — 
The   mystic   Ring   which    rules    the   Niblung's 

Hoard. 

How,  even  now,  fearing  lest  his  base  deed 
Might  be  discovered,  Hagen  sought  the  life 
Of  her,  Gudrun,  and  of  her  baby  boy. 
"Aye,    'twas  to  warn  me  that  bright  Sigurd 

came 

(For  whom  the  almighty  gods,  compassionate, 
Set  on  one  side  the  laws  of  heaven  and  earth), 
To  warn  me  of  my  peril  imminent. 
Drest  as  he  was  upon  that  fatal  morn 


200  Andvari's  Ring' 

When  last,  a  living  shape,  these  eyes  of  mine 
Had  seen  him,  all  accoutred  for  the  chase, 
With  spear  in  hand,  so  now  to  me  he  showed, 
An  apparition  strange  and  pitiful." 

IX 

Thus  spake  Gudrun.     Then  into  bitter  tears 
Broke,  as  upon  her  husband's  breast  she  laid 
That  golden  head  of  beauty  exquisite. 


Then  Attila:  "'Tis  as  the  harper  said. 

'Tis  as  my  prescient  spirit  did  surmise. 

But  safe  thou  art,  my  dearest  one.     Fear  not. 

Potent  the  arm  of  Attila  the  Hun. 

Strong  to  protect  and  terrible  to  strike. 

No  man  of  woman  born  can  harm  thee  now." 


VII 
WESTWARD  HO 


"TOMORROW  shall  we  westward  move,  Gudrun, 
And  once  again  thine  eyes  shall  see  the  Rhine, 
And  Burgundy,  thy  home.     And  thou  to  me 
Shalt  show  the  places  thou  didst  love  so  well — 
Thy  garden  where  the  crimson  roses  bloom, 
The  wooded  path  beside  the  silvery  Rhine, 
And  all  the  other  haunts  thy  girlhood  loved. 
These  shall  I  see;  and  I  shall  love  them  too." 

II 

Thus  Attila  unto  his  queen — then  rose 
And  from  her  bower  passed  out  upon  the  plain, 
Now  filled  with  hubbub  and  confusion  loud, 
As  for  their  march  his  warriors  made  prepare. 
And  soon  among  his  men,  so  fast  he  moved, 
The  figure  of  the  king  was  lost  to  sight. 
And  long  beside  the  window  sat  Gudrun 
Watching  the  scene,  to  her  so  passing  strange. 
For  far  as  eye  could  reach  the  rolling  plain 
Was  peopled,  and  between  long  lines  of  tents 
A  mighty  multitude,  unceasing,  moved. 
201 


202  Andvari's  Ring 

And  here  were  horsemen  riding  to  and  fro 
With  frantic  haste,  on  varied  errands  bent; 
And  shouting  squadrons  ready  for  the  fray, 
And  wheeling  wildly  in  a  mimic  war. 
And  here  were  revels  gay,  of  reckless  ones 
On  whom  life  lightly  sat,  and  partings  sad 
Of  men  from  maids,   of  husbands  from  their 

wives, 

Of  fathers  from  their  children,  for  behind, 
On  Hungary's  plain,  beside  the  Danube's  wave 
Must  womanhood  and  childhood  wait  and  weep. 
Aye,  here  were  cark  and  care,  and  brawl  and 

pain, 

And  many  a  tearful  eye  and  breaking  heart, 
For  though  the  garb  be  motley  yet  a  heart 
May  beat  and  break  beneath,  and  of  one  soul 
Are  lord  and  lackey,  servitor  and  prince. 

in 

And  thus,  beside  her  window,  mused  Gudrun. 
'"Ye shapes  fantastic,  from  the  Asian  steppes 
Far  wandering,  whither  do  ye  go?     What  fate 
Awaits  the  pleasant  land  of  Burgundy?" 
Thus     mused  Gudrun  as  from  her  bower  she 

viewed 
The  horsemen  fierce  of  Attila  the  Hun. 

IV 

And  on  the  morrow,  at  the  break  of  day, 

Set  forth  the  Hunnish  king  and  toward  the  West, 


Westward  Ho  203 

E'en  as  his  sires  had  done  before  him,  marched. 
And  like  the  sea  when  far  from  land  we  sail, 
And  naught  on  every  side  is  visible — 
North,  south,  east,  west — but  ceaseless-moving 

waves, 

So  did  the  hosts  of  Attila  appear, 
Ceaselessly  moving,  covering  all  the  plain, 
Rising  and  falling  like  the  restless  sea. 
A  myriad  horsemen  following  the  sun, 
A  myriad  lances  glittering  in  the  air, 
A  myriad  waves  upon  a  boundless  sea. 
And  thus  they  rode  until  the  Rhine  they  reached. 
And  here  they  halted,  and  once  more  Gudrun 
Beheld  the  silvery  stream  she  loved  so  well. 


Then  sent  the  Hunnish  king  a  message  forth. 
Greetings  to  Gunter,  King  of  Burgundy, 
From  Attila,  the  king  of  kings.     And  this 
The  substance  of  the  message — to  a  feast 
Was  Gunter  bidden,  he  and  all  his  court; 
For  thus  the  royal  Hun  his  friendly  heart 
Would  show  to  one  and  all  in  Burgundy. 

VI 

Splendid,  methinks,  will  the  occasion  be — 
A  feast  to  Gunter,  King  of  Burgundy, 
Tendered  by  Attila,  the  king  of  kings ! 


VIII 

THE  HALL  OF  ATTILA 
(INCLUDING  CLAUDIUS'S  STORY) 


THE  hall  of  Attila,  the  king  of  kings! 
A  Roman  palace  had  it  been,  but  now 
The  Hun  doth  ride  where  once  the  Roman  ruled, 
And  where  the  togaed  praetor  dwelt  in  state, 
Now  swarm  the  horsemen  from  the  Scythian 
steppes. 

II 

The  night  of  nights !     In  the  great  banquet  hall 
Burgundian  now  and  Hun  together  sit — 
Together  sit  and  in  fair  concord  feast. 
A  merry  sight  it  is,  yet  strange,  methinks — 
The  East  and  West  in  medley  mingled  here — 
The  bold  Burgundians,  yellow-haired  and  tall, 
The  Hunnish  troopers,  short  and  dark,  with  eyes 
Mongolian,  such  as  by  the  Orient  Sea, 
In  far  and  fabulous  Cathay  belong. 
Yet  side  by  side  the  nut-brown  ale  they  drink, 
204 


TKe  Hall  of  Attila  205 

And  loud  the  laughter  is  and  gay  the  song, 
For  where  old  Bacchus  leads,  a  joyous  crew 
Follows,  and  rosy  run  the  sands  of  time. 


in 


High  on  the  dais  sitting  now  behold 
The  Hunnish  king,  a  monarch  without  peer, 
Omnipotent;  and  by  his  side  his  queen, 
Gudrun  the  beautiful;  and  near  at  hand 
Gunter  of  Burgundy,  the  honoured  guest, 
And  likewise  Hagen,  and  the  brothers  twain, 
Gernot  and  Giselher;  and  not  far  away 
Claudius  the  Roman;  and  on  either  side, 
Stretching  to  right  and  left  of  the  king's  seat, 
Great  guests  innumerable — a  glittering  host 
Of  vassal  kings,  and  Hunnish  officers, 
And  rulers  high,  and  friends  from  far  and  near, 
And  many  a  lady  fair.     And  round  the  board 
The  smoking  viands  pass,  and  gay  the  guests 
Quaff  the  red  wine  of  Attila  the  Hun. 


IV 


Now  when  the  buzz  and  laughter  of  the  feast 
Were  loudest,  and  the  rosy  wine  of  Rome 
Freest  did  flow,  upon  the  oaken  board, 
With  dagger's  jewelled  hilt,  the  Hunnish  king 
Thrice  rapped,  and  silence  fell  upon  the  throng. 
Then  thus  spake  Attila,  the  king  of  kings. 


206  Andvari's  Ring 


"A  story  let  us  have.     What  say  ye,  friends? 
A  tale,  perchance,  of  Burgundy  or  Rome. 
Our  Claudius  here  shall  tell  it;  for,  indeed, 
I  know  of  none  upon  this  earth  more  skilled 
In  song  or  war,  statecraft  or  fair  romance, 
Than  Claudius,  best  and  truest  of  all  friends." 

VI 

He  ceased,  and  Claudius,  rising  to  his  feet, 
Thus  in  reply:  "Kind  words,  my  king.     Me- 

thinks 

Too  good  you  are  to  me.     Yet  if  these  lips, 
Unfolding  some  fair  story  of  old  Rome, 
Can  add  aught  to  the  pleasure  of  this  feast, 
Right  gladly  will  they  speak."     Then  Claudius 

thus. 


CLAUDIUS'S  STORY 
(CESAR  IN  EGYPT) 

VII 

KNOW,  knights  and  ladies,  that,  though  Roman 

born 

Am  I,  and  Roman  were  my  forebears  all, 
In  Egypt  did  I  pass  my  early  youth, 
For  Egypt  long  hath  been  of  Rome  a  part. 
Let  me,  therefore,  tonight,  a  famous  tale 
Of  Egypt  tell,  that  wondrous,  ancient  land, 
Whose  earliest  beginnings  no  man  knows — 
Lost  in  the  mists  of  prehistoric  days. 
For  old  she  was  ere  Greece  and  Rome  were  born, 
And  wise  her  kings,   and  heaven-inspired  her 

priests, 

And  filled  with  learning  her  philosophers 
Past  comprehension,  and  than  any  spot 
On  earth  more  celebrated  was  this  land 
For  architect  and  builder,  and  e'en  now 
(Though  centuries  long  have  passed  since  they 

were  made 

And  all  forgotten  are  their  makers'  names) 
Sphinxes  and  pyramids  and  temples  vast 
207 


208  Andvari's  Ring 

Fill  all  the  valley  of  the  sacred  Nile, 
Like  Nature's  works,  imperishable.     Fixed 
As  are  the  granite  bases  of  the  hills, 
And  like  the  hills  defying  storm  and  time. 
So  all  compact  of  wonders  is  this  land. 
Yet  not  of  ancient  Egypt  is  my  tale, 
But  rather  of  a  later,  modern  day, 
When  first  the  Roman  came  and  o'er  the  Nile 
The  shadows  of  the  Roman  eagles  fell ; 
A  later,  modern  day,  when  here  on  earth 
The  spirit  of  the  mighty  Julius  dwelt 
'Among  us,  the  first  Caesar,  ere  the  hands 
Of  envious  assassins  dragged  him  down. 
Aye,  here  in  Egypt  did  his  spirit  roam 
(Midst  sphinx  and  pyramid  and  temple  vast), 
With  Cleopatra,  Egypt's  wondrous  queen. 
Of  him,  the  great  first  Caesar,  is  my  tale. 


VIII 


Now,  Caesar,  having  Pompey  overthrown, 
To  Egypt  came;  and  in  that  city  fair 
By  Alexander  founded,  stayed  a  space, 
Gathering  his  legions  round  him  once  again. 
For  Ptolemy,  the  king,  and  the  young  queen, 
His  sister,  Cleopatra,  strove  for  power 
Each  against  other,  and  discord  filled  the  land 
And  civic  strife,  and  Caesar  sent  to  each 
A  summons  to  appear,  that  he  might  weigh 
The  merits  of  the  quarrel,  but  the  king 
14 


Claudius's  Story  209 

Still  held  aloof,  and  from  the  youthful  queen, 
His  sister,  Cleopatra,  naught  was  heard. 

IX 

Now  as,  one  day,  within  his  palace  sat 
Cassar,  in  silence  labouring  at  his  desk, 
By  weighty  matters  of  the  state  engrossed, 
Alone  save  for  a  sunburnt  sentinel 
Who  at  the  portals  of  the  chamber  stood, 
Voices  he  heard  without;  then  in  the  door, 
After  a  little  space,  with  measured  step 
And  military  mien,  the  sentry  strode 
And,  halting  before  Caesar,  thus  to  him, 
Like  an  automaton  saluting,  spoke: 


"Sire,  in  the  hall  a  carpet  dealer  waits, 
Seeking  to  show  his  goods — precious  are  they 
Beyond  compare,  so  do  his  words  aver — 
From  Bagdad  on  the  Tigris  hath  he  come — 
Admission  to  thy  presence  doth  he  crave." 

XI 

Then  Caesar,  weary  of  his  morning's  work, 
And  curious  to  behold  the  fabrics  rare, 
Assented  and,  forthwith,  into  the  room 
The  merchant  came,  bearing  upon  his  back 
The  roll  of  carpets  precious  beyond  words. 
And  precious  beyond  words  they  proved  to  be, 


210  Andvari's  Ring 

For  as  the  merchant  did  his  merchandise 
Slowly  unwind  upon  the  palace  floor, 
Behold,  hidden  within  its  emerald  sheen, 
A  maiden  like  a  milky  pearl  appeared, 
Who,  when  she  Cassar  saw,  rose  to  her  feet, 
Displaying  to  his  eyes  her  lovely  form, 
Like  Aphrodite  rising  from  the  sea. 
Then  toward  the  Roman  venturing  a  few  steps 
She  fell  upon  her  knees  and  at  his  feet 
In  supplication  beautiful  remained. 

XII 

Then  Caesar  to  the  merchant.     "Who  is  this?" 
And  answered  him  the  other  (no  merchant  he 
But  loyal  seneschal) :  ' '  It  is  the  queen. 
The  Queen  of  Egypt,  Cleopatra,  sire. 
Strange  may  it  seem  to  find  her  here,  but  she, 
Albeit  a  girl  still  in  her  teens,  doth  brook 
No  opposition,  e'en  from  such  as  I, 
Grown  grey  in  the  state's  service,   and  this 

scheme, 

Which  now  thou  dost  behold,  by  stratagem 
To  reach  thy  presence  and  present  her  case, 
Is  hers  and  hers  alone.     Hence  came  we  here. 
Obedient  am  I  to  the  realm,  my  lord, 
And  when  my  queen  doth  speak,  whatever  her 

words, 

My  duty  'tis  to  obey.     This  have  I  done. " 
Thus  earnestly  the  loyal  seneschal, 
Apollodorus,  the  Sicilian  old. 


Claudius's  Story  21 1 

XIII 

Then  Cleopatra:  "Everywhere  are  spies, 

Assassins,  and  I  feared  that  to  thy  house 

Safely  I  could  not  come;  so  at  the  last 

Apollodorus  greatly  I  besought 

By  stratagem  to  bring  me  to  thy  side, 

That  I  with  my  own  tongue  might  plead  my 


cause. " 


XIV 

Then  Caesar:  "Rise,  my  queen.     On  this  divan 
Be  seated.     Thus  shall  Egypt  side  by  side 
With    Rome    appear.     So    thou    art    Egypt's 
queen?" 

XV 

And  Cleopatra.     "Aye,  with  Ptolemy, 
My  brother,  do  I  share  the  throne.     But  now, 
By  unwise  counsel  led,  hath  Ptolemy 
Declared  himself  my  foe.     Methinks  if  thou — 
(Please  pardon  me,  my  lord,  for  saying  it) 
If  thou  dost  wish  it,  I  am  Egypt's  queen." 

XVI 

Then  Caesar  bade  a  palace  be  prepared 

For  Cleopatra,  and  a  retinue 

Of  slaves  be  furnished,  that  her  every  wish 

Might  be  accomplished ;  and  from  her  own  home 


212  Andvari's  Ring 

In  Upper  Egypt,  where  she  long  had  dwelt, 
She  called  her  faithful  counsellors  of  state, 
And  for  her  household  servitors  she  sent, 
Who  since  her  birth  to  her  had  ministered. 
And  Caesar  did  proclaim  her  Egypt's  queen, 
And  bade  all  men  obey  her,  and  dispatched 
Troops  against  Ptolemy  and,  in  the  end, 
A  rebel  against  Rome,  the  boy  was  slain. 

XVII 

And  long  with  Cleopatra  in  the  land 
Did  Caesar  dwell— the  land  of  Egypt  old, 
And  many  a  night  upon  the  magic  Nile 
They  floated,  and  by  day  the  cities  fair 
Explored  which  fill  its  valley,  and  beheld 
The  innumerable  marvels  of  the  land- 
Memphis  the  mighty,  and  Gizeh's  pyramids, 
And  the  great  Sphinx,  and  hundred-gated  Thebes, 
Where  once  in  splendour  did  the  Pharaohs  reign, 
And  still  in  splendour  do  their  mummies  rest, 
And  where,  beside  the  river,  Memnon  sits 
Colossal,  and  the  rising  sun  salutes 
With  mystic  music.     For  a  wondrous  barge 
Had  Egypt's  queen,  where  two-score  men  and 

ten 

Sat  at  the  oars,  and  rose  a  snowy  sail 
Of  stoutest  linen,  and  upon  this  sail, 
Broidered  in  gold  and  crimson,  were  displayed 
A  lily  and  papyrus  intertwined— 
From  immemorial  time  the  royal  arms 


Claudius's  Story  213 

Of  immemorial  Pharaohs — symbol  fair 

Of  Upper  and  of  Lower  Egypt  linked 

In  harmony.     And  likewise  had  this  barge 

Of  Cleopatra  cabins  manifold, 

For  comfort  and  for  ease  luxurious  planned, 

And  sheltered  were  the  decks  with  awnings  fair, 

And  on  that  deck — the  uppermost — where  free 

The  dallying  breezes  came — high  o'er  the  wave — 

Tables  were  set  and  couches  for  the  feast, 

And  trained  attendants  waited  and,  that  naught 

Which  helps  to  pleasure  might  be  missing,  here 

Harpers  made  sweetest  music  with  their  harps. 

And  many  a  night,  perchance,  while  hung  the 

moon 

Above  them,  slowly  moving  through  the  heavens, 
They  revelled  till  the  golden  orb  grew  pale 
Low  in  the  west — behind  that  pyramid, 
The  mightiest  and  most  ancient,  which,  'tis  said, 
King  Cheops  built — and  vanisht  were  the  stars 
Throughout  the  heavens,  and  in  the  east  the  sun 
Appeared,  rising  from  out  the  desert  sands 
As  from  the  ocean,  and  all  the  eastern  sky 
A  field  of  topaz  was  and  amethyst, 
And  all  the  desert  red  with  the  new  day. 
And  lo,  as  thus,  one  night,  they  revelled  long, 
Together  sitting,  and  the  wine  of  Rome 
Falernian  sipping  (between  midnight  'twas 
And  morning),  Caesar,  ruler  of  the  world, 
And  Cleopatra,  Egypt's  queen,  thus  spake 
A  sage  grey-bearded,  standing  them  before: 


214  Andvari's  Ring 

XVIII 

"Four  thousand  miles,  so  say  the  records  old, 
This  river  runs ;  four  thousand  miles  it  is 
From  the  blue  ocean  to  its  silvery  source 
Mysterious.     Through    this    ancient    land    it 

flows 

Like  winding  serpent  huge,  but  like  a  god 
Beneficent  it  is,  for  all  the  land 
Were  desert  but  for  Nile.     Would  I  could  see 
The  fountains  fair  from  which  its  waters  spring ! 
The  hidden  sources  of  this  wondrous  stream ! 
Two  lakes  there  are,  so  say  the  travellers  old, 
Deep  in  the  equatorial  forests  set; 
And  from  the  larger  lake  doth  issue  forth, 
Through  rock-bound  doors,  the  Nile;  and  close 

at  hand, 

Guarding  Nile's  portals,  giant  mountains  rise, 
Snow-capped.     The  Country  of  the  Moon  'tis 

called; 
And  these  are   called   the    Mountains   of  the 

Moon. 

Why?     I  know  not.     Unless  it  is,  my  lord, 
Because  the  moon  doth  ever  shine  so  bright 
Upon  those  snowy  summits.     But,  alas, 
Like  sirens  do  they  lure  but  to  destroy. 
Many  have  sought  but  few  have  reached  this 

goal, 

For  thick  beset  with  dangers  is  the  road — 
Dangers  and  difficulties  insurmountable. 


Glavidivis's  Story  215 

Six  cataracts  there  are  beyond  Asswan 

Ere  far  Khartoum  we  reach;  and  at  Khartoum 

Two  streams  unite,  and  one  of  these  is  Nile, 

And  one  his  tributary ;  and  beyond — 

Beyond  Khartoum  is  mystery.     From  a  land 

Far  to  the  south  the  mighty  river  comes, 

But  'tis  a  land  unknown,  impenetrable, 

The  country  of  the  Ethiopians  fierce, 

Where  none  dare  venture  without  arms.     Me- 

thinks 

A  god  recumbent,  with  his  head  enveiled, 
Is  father  Nile ;  for  though  his  puissant  limbs 
Are  fair  to  see,  yet  hidden  is  his  head, 
Veiled  from  the  world  through  centuries.     Would 

thatl 

Could  lift  that  veil  and  for  myself  behold 
This   god's   fair   head!     For   though   in   other 

days 

Have  other  eyes  beheld  it,  and  rejoiced, 
Yet  what  is  that  to  me  since  these  old  orbs, 
Long  eager  for  the  sight,  have  seen  it  not? 
Could  I  but  stand  beside  those  fountains  fair, 
Thrice  happy  should  I  die.     But  he  who  seeks 
To  make  this  journey  perilous  time  and  strength 
Must  have — time,  strength  and  gold.    Nay,  sire, 

for  me, 

A  dreamer,  it  is  not.     But  were  I  thou, 
Caesar,  the  ruler  of  the  world,  this  night 
My  voyage  should  begin — this  night  should  be 
The  start  auspicious  of  my  pilgrimage." 


216  Andvari's  Ring 

XIX 

Thus  spake  the  turbaned  sage,  and  in  his  eyes 

And  in  his  voice  and  in  his  lifted  hand 

The  fires  of  youth,  long  smouldering,  woke  once 

more. 

And  in  his  speech  impassioned  was  disclosed 
The  dream  of  a  long  life  still  unfulfilled. 

xx 

Then  Caesar:  "Well  thou  dreamest,  greybeard 

sage; 

Aye,  well  thou  speakest.     For  like  thee  am  I. 
And  like  thy  soul  so  ever  doth  mine  own 
Adventure  seek.     The  fountains  of  the  Nile! 
The  source  from  which  these  magic  waters  flow 
O'er  which  doth  glide  our  boat!     Would  that 

my  eyes 

Could  see  that  spot — that  region  of  delight ! 
Methinks  the  nymphs  do  ever  beckon  me 
That  in  those  silent  lakes  abide — those  lakes 
High  in  the  mystic  Mountains  of  the  Moon 
Like  twin  pearls  set — those  lakes  miraculous 
Whence  spring  Nile's  waters,  on  their  journey 

long 

Outstarting.     For  until  they  reach  the  sea 
Ne'er  do  they  halt,  but  through  the  desert  land — 
All  nourishing — all  blessing — do  they  flow. 
What  sayest  thou,  my  queen?     Would  that  we 

twain 


Claudius's  Story  217 

Together  might  essay  that  journey  long, 
Together  might  explore  that  land  of  dreams, 
Those  realms  enchanted?     Would  that  up  this 

stream, 

Past  far  Asswan  and  Philae's  templed  isle, 
On — on  into  that  unknown  Nubian  land, 
For  days,  weeks,  months,  aye  years  we  might 

pursue 
Our  lingering  way?    What  sayest  thou,  dearest 

one?" 

xxi  ] 

And  Cleopatra  answered.     "Where  thou  goest, 
There  will  I  go,  my  lord.     E'en  to  the  halls 
Of  Sheol's  realm,  where  great  Osiris  sits 
In  judgment  o'er  the  spirits  of  the  dead, 
If  thou  dost  bid  me  do  it,  there  I'll  go. 
How  much  more  joyful  then  to  follow  thee 
On  this  adventure  beautiful."     Thus  spake 
The  queen  Egyptian,  and  on  Cassar  bent 
Her  wondrous  eyes,  those  eyes  which  did  in 
spire 

The  kings  of  earth  to  battle,  or  in  sweet 
Captivity  their  spirits  did  ensnare. 
For  of  the  race  of  Ptolemy  the  Greek 
She  was,  and  in  her  life  once  more  did  flower 
That  beauty  rare  which,  in  an  earlier  day, 
The  lovely  Helen  bore — she  who  to  Troy 
Led  all  the  Grecian  hosts — in  arms  for  her. 


218  Andvari's  Ring 

XXII 

So  dreamed  the  lovers  in  those  magic  hours 
'Twixt  midnight  and  the  morning,   when   all 

things 

Thrice  easy  of  accomplishment  do  seem. 
So  dreamed  the  lovers,  but  'twas  not  to  be. 
For  ever  must  the  helmsman  keep  his  hand 
Upon  the  helm  or  runs  the  ship  awry, 
And  ever  must  the  hand  of  Caesar  steer 
The  Roman  State,  or  shipwreck  follows  fast. 
And  with  the  daylight  came  a  Roman  knight 
Riding  in  haste,  and  signalled  to  the  barge, 
Desiring  Caesar,  and  him  Caesar  saw, 
And  this  his  message — ' '  That  Pharnaces,  son 
Of  Mithridates,  an  old  foe  of  Rome, 
Had  trouble-maker  turned;  and  in  the  land 
Of  Asia  Minor  all  the  petty  kings 
And  tetrarchs  in  rebellion  were,  and  fast 
The  fire  was  spreading,   and  throughout  the 

East 
The  rule  of  Rome  was  threatened."     This  and 

more 
That    Roman   knight    disclosed.     And    Caesar 

rose, 

And  swiftly  to  the  land  of  Syria  passed, 
And  thence,  with  legions  three,  all  soldiers  good, 
Who  had  with  him  in  Gaul  and  Britain  served, 
On  Asia  Minor  turned ;  and  at  the  town 
Of  Zela  he  Pharnaces  overthrew, 


Claudius's  Story  219 

And    peace   restored    throughout    the    Roman 

realm. 

And  yet  so  swiftly  and  so  easily 
'Twas  done  that  Caesar,  to  a  friend  in  Rome 
This  message,  "Veni,  vidi,  vici, "  sent — 
"  I  came,  I  saw,  I  conquered."     Then  once  more 
To  Cleopatra  and  the  Nile  he  turned. 
But  never  to  those  fountains  wonderful 
Of  Nilus  did  he  journey  for,  alas, 
Short  is  our  earthly  life,  and  in  this  world 
What  we  must  do,  is  done;  and,  often  times, 
What  most  we  long  to  do,  undone  remains. 

End  of  Claudius's  Story 


XXIII 

Thus  Claudius,  painting  with  a  loving  hand 
This  picture  of  the  palmy  days  of  Rome, 
Of  the  first  Caesar,  and  of  Egypt's  queen, 
Last  of  the  Greeks  and  Macedonia's  line: 
Thus  Claudius,  and,  in  silence  for  a  space 
Sat,  gazing  into  air,  as  if  far  off 
Still  dwelt  his  spirit,  by  the  magic  Nile 
Wandering,  perchance,  with  Cleopatra  near. 
For  as,  ofttimes,  the  teller  of  a  tale 
Almost  his  own  identity  doth  lose 
The  while  he  tells  it,  and  his  hero's  life 
Becomes  his  own,  and  to  his  hero's  deeds 
His  own  adventurous  spirit  enters  in, 


220  Andvari's  Ring 

E'en  as  the  actor  doth  project  himself 
Into  the  part  of  him  he  represents, 
So  did  the  soul  of  Claudius,  as  his  lips 
This  story  told,  of  Caesar  in  the  East, 
Take  on  the  portraiture  of  him  he  drew, 
That  man  of  men,  the  flower  of  ancient  Rome 
And  all  mankind,  whose  spirit  did  transcend 
So  far  the  bounds  of  human  excellence 
That,  to  a  wondering  world,  he  did  appear 
Not  human,  but  divine;  not  man,  but  god. 
Yet,  like  the  Nazarene,  by  cruel  hands, 
Urged  on  by  hearts  obdurate,  he  was  slain. 

XXIV 

"A  noble  tale  well  told, "  quoth  Attila, 
And  smote  his  hands  together  in  delight. 
And  round  the  board  uprose  the  loud  applause 
Of  hands  and  voice,  and  many  a  lady  fair 
On  Claudius  let  her  soft  eyes  linger  long, 
For  comely  was  he  and  to  be  desired 
Beyond  all  other  men  in  that  high  hall. 
And  when,  at  last,  the  loud  applause  had  died, 
Thus  to  his  guests  once  more  the  Hunnish  king. 

XXV 

"Once  on  a  time,  as  by  the  Danube's  bank 
We  lingered,  brother  Claudius  and  myself, 
Before  our  tent  a  Gothic  harper  sang. 
Sad  was  his  song,  but  in  my  heart  it  stayed, 


The  Hall  of  Attila  221 

And  there  it  still  remains.     And  there,   me- 

thinks, 

Ever  it  will  remain  until  I  die. 
And  through  the  Hunnish  land  this  harper  old 
I  sought  till  I  had  found  him  once  again. 
And  hither  did  I  bring  him,  and  tonight 
Before  you  shall  he  sing,  my  honoured  guests. 
And  deep  into  your  hearts,  perchance,  his  song, 
Though  passing  sad,  will  sink  and  there  remain ; 
E'en  as  it  sank  in  mine  and  doth  remain. 
My  Claudius,  wilt  thou  bid  the  bard  appear? 
Below  he  is,  perchance,  in  the  great  hall." 

XXVI 

Then  to  a  lackey  Claudius  spoke  and  soon 
Up  on  the  dais  came  the  Gothic  bard, 
Otho,  with  harp  in  hand;  and  low  he  bowed 
Before  the  king;  and  like  a  prophet  old, 
With  flowing  beard  and  noble  countenance, 
He  looked;  and  like  a  heaven-inspired  bard 
He  smote  the  strings,  and  mystic  music  rose 
And  filled  the  hall,  and  sat  the  guests  entranced. 

XXVII 

Then,  as  before,  by  Danube's  yellow  wave, 
Sigurd  he  sang,  the  flower  of  all  the  North ; 
And  how  he  Fafnir  slew,  the  dragon  fierce, 
And  made  the  Niblung's  mighty  Hoard  his  own; 
And  won  the  mystic  Ring  which  rules  the  Hoard ; 


222  Andvari's  Ring 

And  sought,  through  circling  fire,  the  valkyr 

maid, 

Brynhild,  whom  Odin,  father  of  the  gods, 
Above  all  others  loved;  and  how,  returned 
To  Burgundy,  the  lily  maid  Gudrun 
He  wedded,  sister  of  a  noble  king; 
And  how,  at  last,  deep  in  the  Odenwald, 
Slain  by  a  boar,  he  fell ;  but  ah,  perchance, 
'Twas  not  a  boar,  but  envious  enemies 
Who  laid  him  low.     So  all  the  people  said. 
Dark  enemies  who  slew  him  as  the  night 
Blots  out  the  golden,  vivifying  sun. 
Thus  sang  that  Gothic  minstrel,  from  his  harp 
Plucking,  meanwhile,  a  weird  accompaniment. 

XXVIII 

Then  Attila.     "But  whither  went  the  Ring, 
The  mystic  ruler  of  the  Niblung  Hoard? 
Methinks  'tis  strange  if  thing  so  valuable 
Were    lost    forever.     Knowest    thou,    harper, 
that?" 

XXIX 

And  Otho.     "  Nothing  do  I  know,  my  king, 
But  what  I  say.     But  here,  in  Burgundy, 
Surely  there  must  be  some  who  know  its  fate." 

XXX 

Then  Hagen  thus,  upon  whose  gloomy  face 
Disquietude  now  sat.     "  Pardon,  my  king, 


The  Hall  of  Attila  223 

I  crave  for  this  intrusion  on  thy  feast. 
Sad  is  the  harper's  tale,  and  well  'tis  known 
In  Burgundy,  for  here  Earl  Sigurd  died. 
Slain  by  a  boar  was  he  in  Odenwald — 
An  ancient  solitary.     None  than  I 
Better  can  tell  the  tale,  for  in  the  hunt 
Myself  took  part.     All  day,  from  early  morn, 
We  sought  our  quarry  but  o'ertook  him  not. 
And  in  the  afternoon  to  a  deep  glen, 
By  chance,  we  came,  Prince  Giselher  and  myself. 
And  here,  upon  the  ground,  almost  a  corpse, 
We  found,  alas,  the  noble  Sigurd  stretched. 
But  e'er  he  died  the  Niblung's  mystic  Ring 
He  from  his  finger  drew  and  gave  to  me." 

XXXI 

"Methinks  to  his  fair  widow — now  my  queen — 
The  circlet  should  have  gone."     Thus  Attila. 
"What    wantest    thou    with    rings?     A    spear, 

forsooth, 

With  which  to  kill  thy  prostrate  enemy, 
Would  better  suit  thee.     Prithee,  lift  up  thy 

hand, 

Sir  Hagen,  that  we  all  may  see  the  Ring, 
For  filled  with  curiosity  are  we." 

XXXII 

Then  to  Gudrun  turned  Attila  the  Hun. 
"My  queen,  is  that  the  Niblung's  mystic  Ring 
Which  ever  on  his  hand  bright  Sigurd  wore?" 


224  Andvari's  Ring 

XXXIII 

Answered  Gudrun:  "Aye,  'tis  bright  Sigurd's 

Ring. 

And  he  who  wears  it  now  was  Sigurd's  foe, 
And  Sigurd's  murderer.     Oh,  my  lord,  alas, 
That  he  should  be  alive  and  Sigurd  gone!" 

XXXIV 

Then  on  the  gloomy  knight  were  all  eyes  bent 
As  slowly  rose  he  up  and  faltering  spake. 
"Surely,  my  king,  this  lady,  though  thy  wife, 
Doth  accusation  false  against  me  bring. 
These  princes  twain,  Gernot  and  Giselher, 
Can  vouch  my  story  true.     They,  like  myself, 
Through  the  deep  wood  were  seeking  the  wild 

boar 

When  in  the  shadowy  glen  we  Sigurd  found. 
They,  like  myself,  beheld  him,  ere  he  died, 
Place  in  my  hand  the  Niblung's  mystic  Ring. 
Is  it  not  so,  Gernot  and  Giselher  ? " 

XXXV 

As  shakes  a  leaf  before  the  rising  blast 

So  Giselher  trembled.     "Aye,  't  is  so, "  he  said. 

XXXVI 

But  Gernot  answered.     "Nay,  'tis  not  the  truth. 
Long  have  I  silent  been,  but  now  no  more 
is 


The  Hall  of  Attila  225 

I'll  hold  my  peace.     When  into  that  drear  glen 
I  plunged,  all  unaware  of  murder  foul, 
Upon  the  ground  Earl  Sigurd  I  beheld, 
Stretched  out  in  death's  embrace,  and  over  him 
Standing,  with  bloody  spear,  this  basest  wretch, 
Hagen.     My  brother,  partner  to  the  deed, 
In  silent  satisfaction  viewed  the  scene. 
For  him  alone,  because  he  was  my  kin, 
I've  held  my  peace;  for  Giselher's  sake  alone. 
And  then  what  good  to  speak?     The  deed  was 

done. 

And  naught  could  bring  our  Sigurd  back  to  life. 
But  now  no  more  the  coward  will  I  play. 
On  Hagen's  head  the  blood  of  Sigurd  lies. 
Murderer !     Base  villain  inexpressible ! ' ' 

XXXVII 

He  ceased,  and  tumult  filled  the  mighty  hall. 

XXXVIII 

"Seize  him, "  cried  Attila,  "and  from  his  hand 
Remove  the  Niblung's  Ring.  Surely  a  knave 
So  base  should  cumber  not  the  ways  of  earth." 

XXXIX 

Then  on  the  towering  Hagen  leaped  a  score 
Of  Huns  ferocious,  warriors  tried  and  true, 
And  from  his  finger  was  the  glittering  Ring 
Torn,  e'en  as  in  the  fabled  days  of  old 


226  Andvari's  Ring 

By  Hreidmar  from  Andvari's  hand  'twas  torn. 
And  from  all  sides  the  Hunnish  soldiers  rushed 
Into  the  hall  and  filled  it,  and  a  wall 
Of  many  thousands  round  about  it  formed, 
So  that  completely  girt  was  the  great  hall. 
And  Hagen,  bound  and  held  by  many  hands, 
Cried  out  with  a  loud  voice,  "Give  me  the  Ring! 
Alas,  my  Ring!"     But  Attila  only  laughed, 
Even  as  ancient  Hreidmar  once  did  laugh, 
And  on  his  finger  placed  the  mystic  Ring. 
And  Hagen,  as  they  bore  him  to  the  floor, 
Shrieked  out  once  more  with  rage,  "Thee  I  defy, 
Thou  devilish  Hun ! ' '     But  cruel  fingers  tore 
The  tongue  from  out  his  mouth,  and  bound  he 

was 

With  iron  chains,  and  on  the  floor  he  lay 
Helpless,  to  wait  the  pleasure  of  the  king. 


XL 


Then  from  the  dais  came  the  king's  command: 
"  Bring  forth  into  the  middle  of  the  hall 
Hagen,  and  strike  his  head  from  off  his  trunk, 
That  I,  with  mine  own  eyes,  may  now  behold 
Justice,  though  long  delayed,  administered, 
And  punishment  to  fit  his  many  crimes 
Inflicted  on  this  most  inhuman  wretch." 
And  out  before  the  dais  steps,  forthwith, 
All  in  the  middle  of  the  mighty  hall, 
Was  Hagen  brought,  and  set  before  the  king, 


THe  Hall  of  Attila  227 

And  from  his  body  huge  his  head  was  struck, 
E'en  as  the  king  had  ordered.     And,  behold, 
When  Giselher  saw  the  sight  (either  from  fear 
Of  sharing  Hagen's  fate,  or  that  the  gods 
Had  struck  him  down),  he  fell  back  in  his  seat, 
Lifeless,  and  thus,  at  the  same  time,  the  twain 
Perished,  and  down  the  shadowy  road  which 

leads 
To  Hela's  realms  their  ghosts  together  fled. 


XLI 


Then  thus  spake  Attila,  the  king  of  kings. 

"A  sorry  sight  is  this,  my  guests — my  friends: 

A  tragic  end  to  our  festivities. 

But  like  the  lightning's  bolt,  unheralded, 

So  fall  the  bolts  of  Fate.     'Tis  destiny. 

No  evil  in  the  end  unpunished  goes. 

Myself  knew  not  this  man.     His  dastard  crime 

Was  cloaked  on  earth  with  crafty  secrecy. 

But  all  the  heavens  and  the  assembled  gods 

Beheld  the  deed,  and  the  impartial  Fates 

Decreed  his  earthly  end  and  punishment. 

Myself  am  but  the  human  instrument, 

The  sword  with  which  the  fiat  is  made  good. 

And  now,  this  deed  accomplished,  must  I  leave 

Fair  Burgundy,  and  onward  into  Gaul 

Press  swiftly,  there  mine  enemies  to  face. 

And  in  thy  house,  and  to  thy  kingly  care, 

My  brother  Gunter,  till  I  do  return, 


228  Andvari's  Ring 

Gudrun  I  leave,  Gudrun  my  wife  and  queen, 

Dearest  of  all  things  upon  earth  to  me. 

For  in  my  dreams  a  field  of  dreadful  strife 

Ever  I  see,  a  carnage  terrible, 

Where  baffled  are  the  hosts  of  Hungary. 

A  battle  ruthless,  obstinate,  immense, 

Where  fights  the  West  against  the  encroaching 

East. 

And  ever  do  I  hear  a  voice,  crying, 
'Beware  the  plains  of  Chalons,  Attila! 
Beware  the  plains  of  Chalons ! '     And,  although, 
Perchance  these  evil  harbingers  are  naught, 
Yet,  should  I  die,  in  peril  were  my  queen. 
Aye,  safer  were  Gudrun  in  Burgundy." 

XLII 

He  ceased,  and  thus  the  banquet  wonderful, 
Of  Attila  the  Great,  came  to  an  end. 


IX 

GUDRUN  AND  ANDVARI 


"  ANDVARI,  come !     Hasten,  thou  Niblung  dwarf, 

That  I  into  thy  pillaged  hands  may  give 

The  mystic  Ring,  so  long  from  thee  withheld!" 

II 

Thus  spake  Gudrun,  beside  the  silvery  Rhine 
Standing,  then  from  her  ringer  drew  the  ring — 
The  golden  serpent  with  two  ruby  eyes — 
And  softly  rubbed  that  glittering  band  malign. 
And  as,  today,  the  radio  message  flies, 
Needing  no  wire,  by  Nature's  laws  propelled, 
So  through  the  air,  to  that  far  Niblung' s  cave, 
The  message  of  Gudrun,  unaided,  flew, 
She  the  possessor  of  the  mystic  Ring. 
And  by  a  power  occult  the  Niblung  dwarf, 
A  magian  skilful,  mounted  to  the  sky 
And,  like  a  bird,  the  silent  ether  clove, 
Bending  his  swift  flight  toward  the  German  land 
Soon  o'er  the  Rhine  he  hovered,  then,  like  a 
hawk 

229 


230  Andvari's  Ring 

Gigantic,  swooping  suddenly  on  his  prey, 
Descended  till,  upon  the  river  bank, 
Where  waited  Attila's  fair  queen,  he  stood. 
Her  seeing,  low  he  bowed  with  reverence  deep. 

in 

" Me  didst  thou  call,  fair  lady?     Happy  am  I 
That  on  thy  finger  shines  the  Niblung's  Ring! 
The  mystic  ruler  of  the  mighty  Hoard ! 
Thrice   happy  that   by  Hagen's   blood-stained 

hand 

No  more  'tis  held.   And  thou — thou  art  Gudrun? 
Thou    art    bright    Sigurd's   widow?    Aye,    'tis 

true." 

IV 

"Bright  Sigurd's  widow?     Aye, 'tis  true.     And 

now 

Of  Attila,  the  Hunnish  king,  the  wife. 
But  thee  from  out  thy  Northland  did  I  call, 
Andvari,  not  for  gold  or  precious  stones 
Or  fabrics  wondrous  of  the  Niblung  Hoard, 
But  to  set  right,  at  last,  a  grievous  wrong, 
Long  years  ago  committed.     To  return 
To  thee,  at  last,  thy  Ring.     I  want  it  not. 
Enough  have  I.     Enough  of  gold  and  power." 


"Lady,  dost  mean  it?     Potent  is  the  Ring- 
Imperial — ruler  of  the  golden  Hoard." 


Gudrxin  and  Andvari  231 

VI 

Thus  spoke  the  Niblung,  but  Gudrun  replied: 

VII 

"Precious  it  is— all  potent— wonderful— 
But  stained  with  blood  and  redolent  of  crime. 
On  Hreidmar's  hand,  on  Fafnir's  dragon-claw, 
On  Hagen's  hateful  fingers  has  it  been. 
Accurst  it  is.     Ah  no,  I  want  it  not." 

VIII 

So  saying,  in  Andvari's  palm  she  placed 
The    shining    band    that   rules    the    Niblung's 
Hoard. 


FINALE 

O  TALE  heroic!     Of  my  wandering  youth 
(Sea-tost  e'en  like  the  youth  of  Sigmund's  son) 
The  dream  thou  wast ;  and  fuller  manhood  strove 
Thee  to  embody  in  befitting  verse. 
Now  finished  is  the  task,  which  long  hath  been 
The  solace  of  my  grey,  declining  years. 


232 


Jl  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

C.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Complete  Catalogue 
on  application 


Collected  Poems 

By 

Arthur  Peterson 

72°.  Uniform  with  "Andvari's  Ring."  $1.25 

"There  are  many  things  which  po 
etry  now  struggles  to  be  that  we  do  not 
find  in  the  metrical  writings  of  Arthur 
Peterson,  but  we  do  find  themes  poet 
ical  in  themselves,  and  we  find  every 
where  the  sound,  manly  common-sense 
which  distinguished  the  earlier  gener 
ation  of  American  poets."— Richard 
Henry  Stoddard. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


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